Stopover Part Two
by NeverNik
Summary: Draco and Hermione reunite when his plane lands in her city again. Continues on from 'Stopover.' Lots and lots and lots of smut, non-magic AU, Dramione. Lemons! Get your lemons here!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Welcome back, everyone, to Stopover Part Two! We pick up the story from the same day where the previous story left off.**

 **There will be a little bit more plot than the previous story, but the sexy times will be just as numerous ;) Lemons aplenty!**

 **I own the plot, but JK Rowling owns the Harry Potter characters. (Not that she would be very pleased with what they are about to get up to...)**

* * *

Captain Draco Malfoy and First Officer Blaise Zabini sat in yet another hotel bar, toying with their phones and nursing the sole beer they'd allowed themselves to drink before they flew back to their prior destination tomorrow.

'Anything good?' asked Draco.

'Some tantalising prospects,' said Blaise, swiping through his Tinder app. 'How about you?'

'How about I what?' Draco asked vaguely.

Blaise rolled his eyes. 'Any decent birds catch your eye?'

Draco looked up from his phone. 'What? Oh, I'm not looking for anyone.'

Blaise snorted into his beer. 'You're staying in tonight like an old Nana?'

Draco smiled slowly. 'I could do with an early night. Didn't get much sleep the night before.'

Blaise shook his head, smiling. He wouldn't have picked the petite, curly-haired lawyer he met yesterday as the type that could wear the legendary Captain 'guaranteed-good-time' Malfoy out. Just goes to show you shouldn't judge a book by its cover. 'What's so fascinating on your phone, then?'

'Hmm?'

Blaise leaned over and snatched Draco's phone out of his hands.

'Hey! Give that back, you prick!'

Blaise, holding the phone out of Draco's reach, looked at the screen and started laughing. 'Hermione's corporate profile, are you seriously kidding me?'

Draco gave him the fingers and took a sip of his beer.

'Now, now, boys, no fighting in the bar.'

Blaise and Draco looked up at the sound of the sultry voice. 'Hey… Astoria, is it?' Blaise asked.

The leggy blonde in painted-on jeans and a silver cowl-necked top plonked down on the comfy sofa next to Draco and glared at Blaise. 'Yes, you berk, of course it's me. How long have we been on the same crew for?'

'It's hard to tell, sometimes!' Blaise protested. 'Your hair is pinned up for work, and now it's all loose – and looking lovely, by the way,' he tacked on, noticing that she wasn't looking terribly pleased with him. He handed Draco back his phone, who took it with a smirk and put it in his pocket.

Astoria thanked the approaching waiter with a smouldering smile as he set a Cosmopolitan on the table before her. She took out her own phone. 'So, you two out trawling tonight?' she asked as she brought up her own Tinder app.

'One of us is,' muttered Blaise.

'Oh?' Astoria leaned forward, letting Draco and Blaise catch more than a glimpse of her perky cleavage down her loose-necked silver top. Her bra straps were also silver, Draco noted. Her panties, assuming she was wearing any, would undoubtedly be silver, and tiny.

'Captain Malfoy here is having an 'early night', said Blaise, air-quoting.

Astoria turned her beautifully made-up eyes on Draco. 'Oh?' she purred. 'You're sure we can't tempt you?'

Draco knew that her 'we' meant 'I'. He smiled lazily. 'Need to catch up on some sleep, otherwise everyone's staying here tomorrow.' He looked around. 'Wherever here is.'

Astoria pouted.

'Where are the rest of the crew?' Blaise asked.

She looked bored. 'Oh, a couple are on their way down, and the rest are blobbing out in front of their TVs or whatever.'

'Oh, yes!' exclaimed Blaise. Draco and Astoria looked at him.

Blaise looked up from his phone. 'I've got a date,' he smirked.

'Where are you meeting?' Astoria asked, checking her own phone. 'Maybe we could double.'

Blaise rambled off a public location in a popular corner of the city that wasn't where he was meeting his date. He stood up, and grinned at them. 'Don't wait up!'

'Don't be late for pick-up,' countered Draco.

Blaise saluted him, and headed out of the bar, greeting Flight Service Manager Theo Nott and flight attendants Pansy Parkinson and Marcus Flint. Following Blaise's pointed finger, they headed over and sat with Draco and Astoria.

Draco stayed while they ordered drinks, got their phones out and sorted out their social engagements for the evening. Then he got up, and stretched.

'Have a good night, everyone, and remember – don't get caught doing anything stupid.'

'Yes, sir,' they mumbled.

'Draco?'

He turned back. 'Yes?'

'You're sure you won't change your mind?' Astoria's come-hither eyes were working overtime.

He looked impassively at her long brassy blonde hair, perfectly-but-heavily made-up face, and clothes that invited everyone to take more than a second look at her obviously fantastic body. A couple of days ago, she'd have been in his bed already.

'Thanks, but I have to pass,' he said politely. He looked around the group. 'See you all tomorrow. Not late.'

'Yeah, yeah, see ya!' they said cheekily.

Astoria watched Draco's arse as he left the bar.

* * *

Draco looked at his phone for the hundredth time. He wanted to text Hermione. But he didn't want to come off as desperate. What did he even have to say?

He tossed it on to the bed, sending temptation as far away as possible, and resumed his study at his table.

A knock sounded on the door.

Curious, Draco crossed the floor. He hadn't ordered room service, not that he could recall.

He opened the door and discovered that it wasn't a confused employee with a tray of food.

It was Astoria.

She smiled slowly at him. 'Hi, Draco.'

'Hi,' he said neutrally. 'Something up?'

'Oh,' she said airily, 'I felt so bad thinking about you staying here, all alone, that I wanted to keep you company for a bit.'

Translation: her Tinder date stood her up.

'There's no need for both of us to have boring nights,' Draco said. 'Seriously. You look good enough to eat. I bet you won't even spend five minutes in the bar before someone buys you a drink.'

Astoria poked her plump lip out and turned her beautiful eyes on full beam. 'Can I come in?' she asked. 'Just for a moment?'

I'm going to regret this, Draco sighed to himself. But, because his mother raised him to be a gentleman, he stood aside and let her through. 'Just for a short while, okay?' he said. 'I've got some studying to do.'

Astoria wandered slowly around his room. 'your room's the same as mine,' she said, a little disappointed. 'Don't you get any perks for being a Captain?'

'I have a bigger company vehicle,' Draco murmured, turning to a new page in his manual.

Astoria opened the curtains and looked out. 'Better view,' she said, satisfied. 'Can I have a drink?'

'Knock yourself out,' Draco said, indicating the mini bar and picking up his pen.

Bottles clinked as Astoria rummaged through the fridge. She pulled out a pre-mix gin and tonic and took a swig from the bottle. She meandered over to his table. 'Oh,' she said, surprised. 'You're actually studying.'

Draco looked up and smiled. 'What did you think I was doing when I said was studying?'

Astoria shrugged. 'Watching porn.'

'Not tonight. 'I'm on a pretty tight schedule to get this reading done.'

Astoria sat on the bed, sipping her drink. She picked up Draco's phone and scrutinised the wallpaper. She put it back down again. 'You've slept with Pansy, haven't you?' asked.

Draco's pen slowed. He looked over at Astoria, but her face was blank. 'Um. Yeah.'

'She said you were quite… unique.'

Draco snorted. Pansy was not submissive in any way, so while the sex they had on their occasions together was fun, it wasn't anything along the lines of what he had with Hermione. His cock twitched. 'I think tab A fitted into slots B, C and D adequately enough,' he said. 'Not sure what Pansy means.'

'She said you prefer to be in control.'

Draco scratched his head. 'I guess so.'

'I like to be controlled.'

Draco put his pen down and slowly looked up. Astoria sat on his bed, leaning backwards. Her loose-necked top had slid down one arm, baring her shoulder and a lot of breast. He only just now noticed that her bra straps had disappeared.

Let her down easy, he thought.

'Astoria,' he began, 'I don't need to tell you how desirable you look.'

She smirked.

'But nothing is going to happen between you and me tonight,' he continued. 'My study takes priority, and when that's done I need an early night so I can fly tomorrow. I hope you understand.'

Astoria looked like a little girl for a moment as she looked down and swung her feet. Then she hopped off the bed and headed to the door. 'Sure,' she said. 'I'll take this with me.' She indicated the G&T bottle.

'No worries,' Draco replied, hopping up to open the door for her. 'See you tomorrow morning.'

'Yes,' she smiled. She lifted her face and reached up on tip-toes. Draco automatically lowered his head to kiss her cheek, but at the last moment she moved her head, and his lips landed on hers.

Oldest trick in the book, he thought wryly. He ended the kiss promptly and straightened up, out of reach.

Astoria smirked. 'See you tomorrow,' she breathed, and waltzed out of his room, hips swaying.

He let the door close behind him as he headed back to the table, Astoria already a footnote in his mind.

* * *

 **Next day**

First Officer Zabini glanced once more at his colleague sitting to his left. On the B777's flightdeck, he and Captain Malfoy were preparing to descend. Malfoy's eyes may have been hidden behind his aviators, but there was no way he could hide his smile.

Zabini knew that smile. All the flight crew did. It was the 'After We Land and Get the Fuck out of the Airport, I'm Heading Towards a Guaranteed Marathon Shagging Session' smile. They'd all smiled that smile once or twice. Now it was the Captain's turn.

Smug bastard.

'Quit grinning, will ya?' groused Zabini. 'It's hurting my eyes.'

Draco's smile grew even wider.

'Mind chaperoning the boys and girls tonight, mate?' Draco asked. 'I'm going to be off the radar tonight.'

'Arse,' Blaise laughed. 'Enjoy it while it lasts, mate.'

Draco's smile faded.

'Oh, no,' Blaise groaned. 'Tell me you haven't.'

Draco adjusted his microphone and checked some readings. 'Not listening to you.'

A buzz from the flight deck indicated that someone was at the door. Looking at the cockpit door camera, Blaise unlocked it and it slid open to reveal Astoria, resplendent in the airline's flattering uniform, holding a tray of coffee and biscuits.

'You're an angel, Astoria, cheers,' said Blaise, who took a cup and a biscuit.

'Thanks, love,' Draco said, picking up his coffee from the tray.

'What are all the little dark spots in the biscuits?' asked Blaise, peering suspiciously at the one in his hand.

Astoria sighed. 'Earl grey tea.'

Blaise looked sceptical. 'Call me a traditionalist, but isn't tea supposed to go in teacups, not biscuits?'

'It's a new range that's being trialled. Someone in Head Office thought it would be sweet to provide biscuits with tea in them for afternoon tea. Especially for Earl Grey drinkers.'

'What percentage of passenger drinks Earl Grey tea?'

'Beats me.' Astoria shrugged. 'All I know is that I run out of coffee twice as fast as I do tea. And it's not like Economy class has a choice. It's just plain old Gumboot for them.'

'Does Head Office know what percentage of passenger drinks Earl Grey tea?'

'Come off it, mate,' Draco laughed. 'Do you think they know how many planes they have in their fleet?'

Blaise studied his biscuit once more. 'I honestly cannot fathom the reason for half the policies that come out of Head Office,' he told the biscuit. 'Working in Head Office must be so complicated. I'm glad I just fly planes. A nice, simple job.' He popped the biscuit into his mouth and crunched experimentally.

'Any good?' asked Draco.

'Mmph,' said Blaise around the biscuit. 'It's missing something. Ah! I know.' He took a giant swig of coffee. 'Oh, yeah,' he said. 'That's the stuff.'

Draco grinned. 'Want my biscuit?'

'Ah, no thanks.'

Astoria watched the boys' banter fondly. She was lucky to get a gig on this route. Whether or not Draco or Blaise knew it, but flight attendants (mostly female but also including some desperately hopeful males) clamoured to be rostered on with two of the hottest pilots in the airline. Their off-duty exploits were the stuff of legend. Which is why Astoria found it so surprising that Draco rejected her.

'Did you finish your study last night?' she asked, turning to Draco.

'Yep.' Draco took a sip of coffee.

'It looked so complicated,' she added, with a delicate shiver. 'Rather you than me.'

'Once you get used to it, it's not bad.'

'Oh well, I should be getting back,' Astoria said regretfully, reaching forward to collect the cups and uneaten biscuits. 'Have fun, and I'll see you on the ground.'

'Thanks, love.'

'Ta, Astoria.'

When the door was locked again, Blaise turned to Draco, his eyebrows sky-high. 'She saw your study notes?'

Draco rolled his eyes behind his aviators. 'That's all she saw. She propositioned me, I politely said no, and she left.'

Blaise was uncharacteristically silent.

'Actually…' Draco began. 'Could you do me a favour?'

'Depends,' responded Blaise suspiciously.

'Can you kind of keep her busy tonight?'

Blaise sighed. 'You'll owe me.'

'Owe you? For what? Look at her!'

'Oh, she looks the part, I'll grant that. But women who don't take no for an answer can be troublesome.'

'If you could wear her out for me, I'd really appreciate it,' said Draco hopefully.

Another sigh. 'Yeah, all right.'

'Magic! You're a true brother.'

Dark-skinned Blaise looked over at his very white brother and rolled his eyes.

* * *

 **A/N: a chapter without sex - what gives, I hear you ask? Fear not, readers, sexy times resume in chapter 2. Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who's boarded Stopover Part Two, bound for destinations unknown!**

 **Last chapter, I forgot to thank my source, Anonymous Airline Representatives, for sharing knowledge and providing inspiration. These stories could not have been written without you.**

 **Lemon below... it may be kind of an unusual one.**

* * *

'Come on, for God's sake, Draco. Just one bloody beer! You're not even flying tomorrow.'

Draco glanced up from the desk at his hotel room door, against which Blaise lounged with a glint in his eye. 'I'm working here.'

'No, you're not. You're killing time and hiding from Astoria until you meet Lady Lawyer for dinner and another epic shagging session.'

Draco's cheeks tinged a delicate shade of pink, which set Blaise off hooting with laughter.

'Draco and Hermione, sitting in a tree' –

'Shut up,' Draco laughed.

'F-u-c-k-i-n' –

'All right, all right! One beer.' Draco tossed his pen down and stood up.

'Atta boy,' Blaise grinned, rubbing his hands together.

'Your obligation to Astoria starts the second she sees me, I hope you realise.'

Blaise looked the picture of innocence. 'Goes without saying, mate.'

Draco eyeballed him as they got into the lift. 'You know what they say about women who don't take no for an answer.'

'No! Tell me!'

Blaise laughed while Draco banged his head against the lift's wall as they descended to the hotel's ground floor.

* * *

Hermione checked her reflection in the full-length mirror on her bedroom wall. Her hair glinted bronze in the low light, and her plump curls were behaving themselves. At least, they would behave at the beginning of the night. She recalled the state her hair was in when she went to take a shower in Captain Malfoy's – Draco's - hotel room. At least he was polite enough not to say anything. Or scream in horror.

Her make-up emphasised her toffee-coloured, expressive eyes, making them appear larger than they were. Men seem to like that. Especially when a woman was on her knees before them, looking up.

She'd coloured her plump lips a dark, bold red. Men like lips, too.

Around her neck she wore a drop choker of five thin strands of white sapphires. A much longer sixth length descended from the choker to rest amid her breasts. A not-so-subtle invitation for Draco to start at her throat – and follow the trail down. Eyes, fingers, tongue – his choice.

She wore a long-sleeved, navy-blue wrap dress that ended just about the knee. Simple, demure – except for the V neckline, which exposed more of her décolletage than would be appropriate for the office. Draco could easily see how far the drop choker descended.

She pulled on a pair of dark blue suede high-heeled sandals with a thin ankle strap and diamante clasp.

She returned to the mirror and looked at herself again.

Why am I trying so hard? she thought with irritation. Last time, all I had to do was fall at his feet in my corporate clothes.

She knew the answer, of course. But if she articulated the words, she'd have to face the uncomfortable truth.

'It's just for a couple of nights,' she whispered into the mirror. 'Just have fun.'

Her reflection looked solemnly back.

She sighed, grabbed her bag and summoned an Uber from her phone.

* * *

Blaise and Draco drank their beers standing by the bar. Perhaps it would give the impression to their colleagues that they were on their way out. Out of habit, Blaise thumbed through his Tinder app, silently rueing lost opportunities, while Draco booked an Uber.

'Happy hour makes me happy!' a familiar voice trilled behind them.

'Astoria, my lovely!' beamed Blaise, stepping aside so she could wriggle in closer to the bar. 'And don't you look good enough to eat this evening?' He lifted a perfectly-groomed eyebrow and leered suggestively at her.

She laughed. 'Dream on, Zabini.'

Draco and Blaise exchanged looks over her head as she ordered a drink from the bartender.

Sure enough, once a drink was in her hand, she turned to Draco. 'Wow. You look nice,' she purred, running a finger over his open shirt collar. 'Going out?'

Draco grinned. 'Got it in one, lovely.'

Astoria's smile froze. 'Oh?' she said nonchalantly. 'Tinder hook-up?'

Draco's eyes twinkled over his beer bottle. 'Nope. Tinder will have to do without me for another night.'

She still wasn't satisfied. 'Didn't think you knew anyone here.'

Draco drained his beer and glanced at his phone. 'Just a friend,' he said. 'Anyway, my Uber's pulling up outside. Have a great night, you two.' He winked at Blaise, who scowled half-heartedly back. Then he left the bar.

Astoria, as always, watched his arse hungrily, looking divine in a pair of tailored black dress trousers. She turned back to the bar and took a swig of her cocktail. 'So, Blaise,' she said lightly.

'Yes, Tori? May I call you that?'

She shrugged. 'Does Draco's friend have a cunt?'

Blaise looked at her with mock disappointment. 'Oh, Tori, Tori. What a cuntish thing to say.'

She glared at him and downed the rest of her drink in one.

* * *

Draco watched Hermione enter the restaurant's bar.

As she walked towards him, he thought: She's a witch. She must be. Because she has totally, completely and utterly fucking bewitched me. She's barely walked through the door and I'm as hard as stone.

She approached him with a self-conscious smile. 'Hello again.'

He blinked, remembered his manners and smiled back. 'Hermione, hello. You look beautiful.'

They kissed each other on both cheeks. But just as she was about to pull away, Draco lightly held her arm and whispered in her ear 'You're not getting out this restaurant without me fucking you. Just so you know.'

Her eyes widened in shock.

His mouth quirked up in a grin. 'Shall we?' He held out his arm. She placed a slightly trembling hand on his, and they followed the maître 'd into the restaurant.

* * *

Hermione absent-mindedly twirled the stem of her wine glass, distracted.

Draco smirked. 'Penny for 'em.'

'Oh!' She looked up and blushed. Then she smiled. 'How were your flights?'

His smirk grew bigger. 'That's what was distracting you?'

She matched his smirk. 'Prove to me it wasn't.'

He laughed. 'No, I doubt I could compete with a lawyer when it comes to proof and evidence.'

She looked smug. 'Very wise.'

* * *

Over dinner at their cosy corner table, she said 'I hope you don't mind, but I have some questions about your industry that somehow I never got the chance to ask when we first met.'

Draco smiled and took a sip of wine. 'Ask me anything.'

She briefly closed her eyes and nibbled on her lower lip, thinking.

Draco clenched his teeth. He could barely tear his eyes away from her. Everything about her made his balls ache. Her beautiful eyes. Her plump, red lips that were going to be wrapped around his cock in a couple of hours. The choker around her neck – Christ, that just about had him on his knees. He wanted to introduce her to breath play. Maybe tonight, if she was willing.

And then, that torturous length of sparkling necklace that trailed down her sternum and dipped in between her creamy breasts.

She probably thought he was joking about fucking her in this restaurant.

But he was deadly serious.

He took a large sip of chilled water.

'Okay.' Hermione scooped up a forkful of artichoke and feta tart. 'What's the worst near-miss you've experienced?'

Ah. The distraction of work. He thought for a minute, then began to speak.

* * *

'I have another one.' Hermione's eyes were sparkling.

'Go for it.'

'Have you joined the Mile High Club?'

Draco smirked. 'Sorry, I'm not familiar with that term.'

She laughed. 'Pull the other one.'

He leaned forward, still smirking, and lowered his voice. 'Yes. When I was off-duty.'

'Oh. I think I'm disappointed.'

'Oh well, if you don't want to hear about it' –

'Oh no, you don't!' She leaned forward. 'Spill.'

'Okay… about five years ago I was heading back to Heathrow from Morocco. Sitting next to me was a lovely woman, a little older than me, a frequent flier who I was on nodding terms with. She told me I was her 'favourite' pilot, and I said something cheesy like 'Want to be my favourite passenger?'

'It was a night flight, and the plane was a little over half-full. We found some seats where we weren't surrounded by passengers and put a blanket over our lower halves. She unzipped my trousers and stroked me with her hand while I pushed her panties to one side and fingered her pussy.'

Hermione's eyebrows were raised. 'Does that count as joining the Mile High Club?' she asked doubtfully.

He grinned. 'You tell me. I believe a person joins the Mile High Club when they have sex with another person in a plane. Are handjobs or fingering examples of having sex, my very sexy lawyer?'

Hermione frowned. 'Um, I guess they would be called sexual acts…'

'Not to worry. I haven't finished my story.'

She rolled her eyes, smiling. 'I should have known.'

'We headed to the toilets. There was totally no room to remove clothing, and it was too risky to waste time on that, anyway. The flight attendants can open a locked toilet from the outside.'

'You're joking!' said Hermione, her mouth a perfect 'O'.

'Nope. What if someone had a medical emergency in there? They'd have to get to the passenger somehow.'

She nodded. 'Go on. I'm curious about the logistics.'

He laughed. 'It wasn't easy. Luckily, she was wearing a dress, so she knelt on the closed toilet seat and lifted it over her hips. I unzipped my trousers, took out my cock, pulled her panties aside and fucked her hard and fast. The thrill of possible discovery added to the mood, and we both came pretty quickly. Had to keep our voices down, though.'

'Wow,' Hermione said. 'And no-one saw you?'

'Oh, no. We were seen entering and leaving the toilet.'

'What happened?'

'Later on, I went for a spin around the cabin to stretch my legs. One of the flight attendants pulled me into a galley and - with a big smile on her face, I might add - welcomed me to the Mile High Club, then whispered 'you're the fourth pilot she's done the Mile High with, you know. Along with two male flight attendants.'

Hermione, who had just taken a sip of wine, spat it out in surprise and dissolved into laughter. 'So you weren't her 'favourite' pilot after all.'

He winked. 'That's okay. She wasn't my favourite passenger, either.'

'Would you do it again?'

'No,' he conceded. 'At least, not in a toilet.'

'How about the crew's quarters?'

'True, there's half a dozen narrow beds, but sod all privacy. However, if you don't mind an audience…'

'Too advanced for me,' Hermione smiled. 'What about the flight deck, when the First Officer isn't there?'

'Not anymore,' Draco said. 'Safety and anti-terrorism laws have made it illegal for a civilian to enter the flight deck while the plane's in operation. We've got cameras and everything now.'

She pouted. 'What about the good old days when little passenger Johnny was escorted by a stewardess to the cockpit so he could have a good fossick around and pepper the pilots with questions?'

'Thing of the past, I'm afraid,' Draco said wistfully. 'That's how I caught the flying bug. I wonder how many potential pilots' careers we've scotched?'

'Maybe they became lawyers instead.'

Draco burst out laughing.

* * *

'Want dessert?'

Hermione thought. Sex on a full stomach is not fun. She stood up. 'I'm going to the Ladies'. I'll just share what you're having, is that okay?'

Draco smiled slowly. 'It's more than okay.'

She raised an eyebrow at his oddly sultry reply, collected her bag and headed to the bathrooms.

Draco ordered dessert, checked his phone (no SOS texts from Blaise; good news) and slowly stood up.

* * *

Hermione exited the stall and went to the basins to wash her hands. A little old lady finished drying hers and tottered out of the bathroom. The door shrieked on its hinges as it opened, and again as it closed.

She searched in her bag for her compact.

Suddenly, two hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her up against the hard body of an obviously aroused man.

She yelped in fright and looked in the mirror. It was Draco, with a dangerous look in his eyes. Her heart hammered. 'Christ, you scared me!' she gasped. 'What are you even doing' –

'I told you you're not getting out this restaurant without me fucking you,' he murmured.

Her hammering heart leapt into her throat – while her pussy turned to liquid. 'You've got to be joking,' she retorted, even as she knew damn well that he wasn't.

'Think about the Mile High Club story,' he whispered, grasping her breasts. 'Hard, fast, hot.' His hands drifted to the hem of her dress.

'Wait!' she gasped. Her body was sending her two different messages – run away; spread her legs. She couldn't think.

'Safe word applies,' he said in a low voice.

Hermione remembered how she felt last time, when he asked her to nominate a safe word. She knew that if she told him to stop, he would. Without question.

How could she feel so safe with someone so dangerous?

She took a deep breath, and let it out. 'If I'm ready for you.'

Quickly, his cool fingers climbed under her dress and traced over her panties. Hooking them to one side, he brushed the lips of her smooth, beautiful pussy. Hermione jolted, like she'd been zapped with electricity.

'You're soaking, beautiful girl,' he whispered.

Hermione met his cerulean eyes in the mirror – then leaned over the counter and braced herself. 'Fuck me,' she whispered.

Within a second, Draco's huge, hard cock plunged into her cunt. Hermione clenched her teeth together to stop a loud moan escaping from her throat. She closed her eyes, feeling his hard thrusts and retreats.

'Look in the mirror,' he gritted.

Shaking, she did, meeting his arousal-darkened eyes as he stroked, hard, in and out of her. Oh, God. This was the riskiest thing she'd ever done in her normally prim and proper life. The fear of discovery almost had her sobbing – but the ecstasy that this gorgeous, enigmatic man was building up in her morphed that fear into an incredible arousal. She was going to come. She could feel it.

Draco felt it, too. 'Good girl,' he whispered, fucking her impossibly harder. 'Come over my cock, love, coat it.'

She clenched her teeth so hard she wouldn't have been surprised if any cracked. She would not, _would not_ make a sound. Not even if it killed her.

'Fuck, yes,' Draco whispered by her ear as her pussy clamped down on his cock and her body trembled.

He orgasmed inside her in silence, pulsing hard into her body.

He withdrew and pulled her panties back into place. She grabbed some tissues from the bench. He took them from her and cleaned himself up before zipping up his trousers and rinsing his fingers.

'No,' he said, grabbing her arm when she reached for the tissues again.

She looked at him in alarm. 'But you came' –

He turned her around and kissed her, savouring her taste, mixed with wine. 'From now until we get back to my hotel, you are not to spill a single drop of my come,' he said in a low, intense voice.

Hermione's mouth fell open. He actually meant it, the bastard.

'And if I do?' she asked, with a little wobble to her voice.

The door creaked open, and a woman strode in. She pulled up in surprise. 'Oh!'

Draco ignored her. Putting his lips to Hermione's ear, he breathed 'You will be punished.'

With that, he turned and strode out of the bathroom, saying 'Good evening!' to the surprised woman.

Hermione immediately clamped her thighs together and scrabbled for her bag.

The woman peered at her with concern. 'Are you all right?'

Hermione nodded, and did her best to smile. 'Yes, thank you. Everything's fine.'

Not quite convinced, the woman entered a stall, while Hermione walked, with small steps, out of the bathroom.

* * *

Draco was already at their table, eating a dark chocolate fondant pudding when Hermione gingerly took her seat.

He looked up and smiled. 'Want some?' he asked, indicating the dessert.

She glared at him. He'd asked the fucking impossible of her. She'd clenched her thighs together and contracted her pelvic floor muscles, even squeezed her buttocks together. And she could still feel his come slowly pool in the gusset of her panties. If any did spill out, it would stain her dress. Being navy blue, she could hope the stain wouldn't show.

She picked up her wineglass and drained it. Then she held it out to him. 'I would like another glass, please,' she said with frosty politeness.

He smirked, and poured the remainder of the bottle into her glass. 'You look like you need it.'

She leaned over and scowled. 'You'll keep,' she gritted.

Draco raised a small spoonful of the gooey, decadent pudding to her lips.

She seethed, but – if she ate it, they'd be out of here faster. She opened her mouth, and he slid the spoon inside.

She closed her eyes in bliss. God, that was good. Sex and chocolate. She swallowed, and opened her eyes – to find Draco grinning. 'I'm still pissed at you,' she grumbled.

'Oh, I know,' he said, his grin never faltering.

They finished the dessert, and Hermione took larger-than-usual sips of her wine. Draco picked up a strawberry that was used to decorate the dessert plate. He leaned closer to Hermione. 'This strawberry has given me an idea.'

Oh, God.

'And what, pray tell, would that be?' she asked archly.

He slowly twirled the berry in his fingers. 'It's a variation of chocolate-dipped strawberries. Instead of dipping them into chocolate – which has its merits, I admit – I dip them into your delicious, wet pussy, filled with my come. Our two juices combined, coating this pink, plump berry.' He looked at her, and popped the fruit into his mouth. 'Yum.'

Hermione was lost for words. 'I think you're wasted as an airline pilot,' she eventually said. 'You could probably make millions as an international, jet-setting gigolo, servicing the rich, lonely and submissive women of Europe.'

He sighed happily. 'My dream job.'

She couldn't help it. She started laughing. And then quickly stopped, because that just sped gravity up somehow.

'Ready to go?' Draco asked softly.

'Hell, yes.'

* * *

Back in the hotel bar, Pansy looked over her shoulder, then sighed into her Sauvignon Blanc. 'She's at it again.'

Blaise peered around her and found Astoria sitting in the lap of a businessman, giggling inanely and leaning forward to simper at and flash her boobs to the other businessmen at the table, slopping her drink everywhere. She looked like a one-woman wet t-shirt competition.

He sighed. 'Theo…'

Theo snorted. 'No way. It was my turn last time.'

'You're her manager!' Blaise said, exasperated.

'You're the First Officer. That puts you in charge in the Captain's absence.'

Blaise grumbled a few swearwords under his breath, then stood up. They never taught you about this shit on the Captain's course he was studying for.

As he neared the businessmen's table, he slapped a confident, diasarming grin on his face, the type he reserved for frantic flyers who freaked out at the slightest noise or change in altitude. 'So sorry, gentlemen, I thought I had a firmer leash on her.' He held out a hand to Astoria, who peered at it and stuck her nose up in the air.

The businessman with the occupied lap bared his teeth and wrapped his hand around her waist. 'She seems to be quite happy here.'

Oh, so tempting, thought Blaise. But she'll wake up tomorrow morning with a massive hangover and a raw pussy and arse from being gang-banged by a bunch of flabby suits, and that won't do anything for her mood.

Also, Draco will skin me.

'I agree, she looks to be settled in for the night, but I just received a text to say her husband's on his way back to the hotel, so I thought she should be informed of that, at the very least.'

Astoria looked up at Blaise. 'Husband?' she slurred.

'Yes, you silly goose,' Blaise beamed. 'Draco. Your husband. My best mate.'

Her eyes lit up. 'Draco!' she squealed, and leapt off the businessman's lap. The businessman draped his jacket over his crotch to hide his boner and scowled at Blaise.

Blaise grasped Astoria's arm before she disappeared into the bowels of the hotel and he lost her forever. 'Terribly sorry,' he said, eyeing the businessman's jacket with concealed amusement. 'Come on, Tori, let's head up to your room, eh?'

With his arm firmly around Astoria's waist, he steered her out of the bar, mouthing 'taking her up' to Theo and Pansy as they went past.

They finger-waved back and giggled into their drinks.

* * *

Astoria stumbled around her hotel bedroom. 'I wanna go for a swim!' she cried.

Blaise poured a glass of water from the bathroom basin. 'No, you don't.'

She ignored him. 'Where's my suitcase?' she called. Then he heard some alarming banging and crashing noises.

He entered the bedroom and pulled her out from behind the desk. 'Come on, drink this.'

She peered at it with suspicion. 'What is it?'

'Vodka.'

Her eyes lit up. 'Yum!' She downed the lot in three big gulps.

Blaise smiled. 'Another?'

'Yes, please.' Then she stuck out her tongue and ran it along her lips. 'It hasn't got any taste.'

'It's a brand-new product. Practically indistinguishable from water.' Blaise headed into the bathroom again.

'Wow. That's so clever.'

Blaise smiled as he ran the tap. At least she wasn't an emotional or violent drunk.

'Here you go,' he said, stepping into the bedroom. 'Um – what are you doing?'

Astoria had peeled her booze-stained top off her body and was shimmying out of her tight leather trousers. 'Going for a swim.'

Blaise sighed. 'Drink this first.'

'Goody!' Standing in her delicate bra and matching thong, she held the glass in two hands and sculled it. Then she held it out to Blaise. 'Can I have another?'

'I think we'll pace you,' he said. Then – 'For fuck's sake Tori, where are you going?'

She opened the hotel room door. 'I told you. I'm going for a swim.'

He got in between the door and herself and closed it. 'No, you're not.'

She stamped her still-heeled foot. 'But I want to!'

Blaise crossed his arms. 'Think of something else to do.'

She looked down at her feet, wobbling slightly and humming off-tune. Then she looked up and smiled. 'I want to play 'Let's Pretend!''

He raised a wary eyebrow. 'How does that go?'

She smiled, and skipped over to him. He was mesmerised by the bounce of her considerable breasts, threatening to spill out of her demi-cup bra. 'It's easy! I'll pretend to be Astoria' –

'Um' –

She poked a manicured nail at his chest. 'And you can pretend to be Draco!' In a nanosecond, she pushed her gorgeous, mostly nude body up close against his. 'I want you to fuck me, Draco,' she whispered, staring into his eyes and looking scarily sober.

Blaise's head fell back against the door. He was going to demand a curriculum review of the Captain's course.

* * *

In the back seat of the Uber, Hermione watched the neon-lit buildings pass by. Her hands were holding her bag, which was sitting on her lap. Her legs were close together. Very close.

Draco sat in the passenger seat, exchanging small talk with the driver, who was thrilled to have an airline pilot as a passenger, and asked question after question.

Occasionally, Draco flicked his head back to look at Hermione. Each time, she gave no indication that she saw. She looked serene. But she was charged. Her very hair looked like it could start a wildfire.

His cock only had a temporary reprieve after he came inside her at the restaurant. It was soon rock-hard again. In the dim non-light of the car, Draco reached for his phone, surreptitiously adjusting his erection.

They were five minutes away from the hotel.

* * *

 **So... what do you think? Is Blaise going to take advantage of a drunk Astoria? Is Hermione going to pass Draco's challenge? Does anyone have a hankering for a career in the airline industry?**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: welcome back everyone! Sorry for the upload delay. Chapter two's cliffhangers will now be resolved – and replaced with new ones. Sorry about that.**

* * *

 **At the hotel**

Luck was on Draco's side. He entered the hotel and got to his room without any of the crew discovering them. It wasn't that he was ashamed of Hermione. Hell, no. He just couldn't be bothered deflecting their teasing remarks, not to mention the flirting from Blaise (towards Hermione) and the bitchy comments from Astoria (towards them both).

Also, Hermione's discomfort was probably reaching Everest-like levels by now. Sharing a drink with Draco's already-sloshed and uninhibited workmates would be understandably low on her list of things to do.

They were alone in the lift. His fingers itched to touch her, but her stiff posture and distant expression stopped him. He watched her instead, speculating.

He swiped his key card in the lock and opened the door, letting Hermione in first.

She entered his room and walked to the middle of the floor before turning around and meeting his eyes.

He couldn't read her expression. It bothered him more than he cared to admit.

Neither spoke.

Almost to Draco's surprise, he broke first. His lips parted. 'Hermione' -

She let her bag slip from her shoulder to the floor. Then she untied the sash of her wrap dress, pulled it open, letting the dress fall over her shoulders and pool at her feet.

Draco instantly became hard, the hardest he'd been all night. The sight of her almost-nude body was like an electric shock coursing through his veins, bringing every single part of him alive. The necklace descended just past her sinfully sexy navy satin bra. It glittered at she breathed in and out. Her matching panties sat low on her hips, and her legs looked long and slender in her high-heeled shoes. For some reason, the narrow strap that wrapped around her ankles made his heart pulse.

Her thighs were still clamped together.

When he dragged his eyes back up to her face, she pulled her lower lip over her teeth with her tongue.

Fuck, that is sexy.

When she had his complete attention, she said 'I can't stand another fucking second of this. Judge me and punish me.'

With difficulty, Draco stopped himself from launching at her. Clenching his jaw, he prowled towards, then moved behind her. With a slightly shaking hand, he shifted her beautiful hair from one shoulder and lowered his lips to her ear.

'Part your legs,' he whispered.

She actually found it hard at first – she'd spent ages forcing her legs together – but she unlocked her muscles and stood with her legs a few centimetres apart. One thing was for certain – she did not want to do this again. The feel of his rapidly-cooling semen pooling in her panties was not sexy or comfortable. She was not a big fan of wet panties in the first place, even when it was just her who made them that way.

His long, graceful fingers touched her hips, and she felt her panties move, with agonising slowness, down her legs. She closed her eyes. She didn't want to see.

At last, the panties lay at her feet. She stayed still, and hoped that her body wouldn't betray her by shaking.

He was silent. She couldn't even hear him breathe. Traitorously, an involuntary shiver pulsed through her body.

Draco spoke in a low voice in front of her. 'Open your eyes.'

Hermione swallowed, then opened them, raising them to meet his ocean-blue gaze.

'You passed,' he whispered, then took her face in his hands and kissed her hard.

* * *

He'd wanted this for over twenty-hour hours. To hold her. Taste her. He tried to be gentle, but for once his instincts got the better of him.

Hermione welcomed his harsh intrusion into her mouth. Their tongues clashed initially, not wanting to give way or back down, but they soon worked in unison to kiss and touch and stroke each other's mouths, lips and tongues. Draco unclipped her bra, and before her breasts reacted to the room's air-conditioned air, his hands palmed them both, squeezing and massaging them. He swallowed the moan that broke from her mouth.

Eventually, they pulled apart, breathing hard. Hermione gently touched a finger to his lips, now a little swollen from their kiss. 'What would my punishment have been?'

He opened his lips and drew her finger into his mouth, running his tongue around it. When he released it from his mouth, he murmured 'twenty-five strokes to your delicious little bottom.'

She sucked in a breath. Twenty-five! Christ. 'What do I get for passing?'

He smiled, but she didn't like it one bit.

'You passed the challenge, so we should do something that you'll enjoy. Thoroughly.'

There's a catch, I know it, she thought. 'What's that?' she asked warily.

He kissed her lips, hard and fast. His eyes glittered. 'Thirty.'

* * *

To say that Hermione yelled 'Yippee!' and leaped into his arms, proffering up her posterior for his sadistic enjoyment would be a deviation from the truth. Instead, her mouth went dry, and she boggled at him.

Draco stepped back and unbuttoned his shirt, not taking his eyes off her. 'The safe word applies, naturally.'

She still looked at him like he'd morphed into the Marquis de Sade. A much better-looking version, naturally, but still.

So, he did something he'd never done before. He backed down. Somewhat.

'You can say it now, if you want.'

Wow. Hermione saw how difficult that was for him to say. Maybe not quite on the same level as a very reddened bum, but she understood what it meant for him to say it.

Besides. She did enjoy being spanked, in a way. While it stung, there was something about the way he did it that turned her on, incredibly so. It was the anticipation that she didn't like.

She lifted up her chin. 'No.'

He nodded, and kissed her gently. 'I admire you. So very much,' he said quietly.

She felt the blood rush to her cheeks.

Bare-chested, Draco stepped back and undid his belt. Keeping his eyes on Hermione's face, he pulled it from his belt loops.

Omigod, she thought in a near-panic. He's not going to use the belt on me. Is he?

'No, I wouldn't do that.'

Her eyes went wide. Just our second night together, and he can already read me, she thought.

'Hold out your hands and bring your arms together at the elbows.'

Ironically, she calmed a little. She'd take having her hands tied together with his belt any day over being whipped with it. She did as he asked, watching as he deftly wound the leather around her wrists.

When he'd secured the belt, she tested it. She couldn't get free, but the belt allowed a little movement, so her circulation wouldn't be cut off.

He'd done it before.

Well, duh.

He watched her test the bond. 'All right?'

She nodded. 'Yes.'

'Good. Bend over the table.'

She headed to the table. He shoved some papers, manuals and his laptop to the side, and she bent over, resting her torso and arms on the table. She hooked her fingers over the table's far edge. She was still in her high heels, so this raised her arse up a little. She felt very exposed. She swallowed hard, and concentrated on her breathing.

Draco stood behind her and looked at her hungrily. His eyes trailed up her legs as he removed the rest of his clothes. She stayed still, waiting.

He knelt behind her, breathing in the smell of her body and ignoring his impossibly harder erection.

'I'm going to touch you now,' he whispered. With that, he ran his hands slowly up her legs, starting from her ankles. Despite his warning, she jumped and sidled a little – she was expecting a slap to her arse, not a delicate brush of fingers on her legs.

Upon reaching the cheeks of her arse, Draco pulled them apart to expose her pussy. It was still glistening with their come from their restaurant encounter, but he also suspected that she was aroused as a result of the upcoming spanking.

He wet his lips, and pushed his face into her cunt.

'Fuck!' Hermione gasped, and reddened, embarrassed at her uncouth language. Oh, dear God, she loved the feel of his tongue in her pussy, drawing her lips into his mouth and swirling around her clitoris. His nose nudged her rosy little arsehole.

Draco cleaned up their come from the top of her thighs, and ensured each of her labia were squeaky clean. He gently exposed her clitoris with a couple of fingertips and swirled his tongue around the little button.

He saved the best until last – the channel that fit his cock so perfectly. He spread her lips and plunged his tongue inside, causing Hermione to moan and push back against his face for more.

He was making her wetter, and part of him revelled in it, in her taste. But he didn't want her to come just yet. It was with some reluctance that he pulled away, wiping his face with his hand.

In a single movement, he stood up and slapped her left buttock. She gasped in surprise more than in pain. The red mark it left made his balls tingle. He stroked his cock with the hand he used to wipe his face; slick with the juices from her body. He breathed out. 'Count the strokes.'

'One,' she said bravely.

He slapped her right buttock.

She hissed in a breath. 'Two…'

He spanked her again, making sure he touched another part of her arse.

'T-three…'

* * *

She was crying by the time he got to twenty, and her buttocks and thighs were rosy red. Still, she wouldn't back down.

'I won't think less of you if you use the safe word, Hermione. Believe me.'

She sniffed, trying to stem her tears by wiping her face against her arm. 'N-no,' she quavered.

'Promise me you will say it if you can't take any more.'

'Yes! I will! Just – do it!'

He shook his head in awed amazement, and spanked her again.

'Twenty-one!' she wailed, her buttocks shaking.

Another.

'Twenty-two!'

Another.

'Oh God – twenty-three!'

One more.

'Fuck, oh fuck – twenty-four!'

No, thought Draco. No more.

He stood behind her and placed his hands on either side of the table. He lined his cock up against her dripping cunt - and surged inside her.

Hermione wailed and came hard over his cock while he gripped her hips and fucked her fast and deep. With each stroke, her pussy spasmed, gripping and releasing him – and she was hot, hot and wet. The temptation to come was almost unbearable for Draco, but he had plans for tonight. So, as her orgasm ebbed, he slowed, and eventually pulled out of her. With regret.

She was breathing heavily, still sprawled across the table. Her pussy glistened, and like Pavlov's dog, his mouth watered at the sight.

He leaned over her and unhooked her fingers from the end of the table. She flexed them slowly. 'Come on,' he whispered against her shoulder blades, and gently pulled her up from the table. As she stood, her legs buckled, so he scooped her up and carried her to the bed.

Hermione lay against the pillows, bringing her breathing under control while Draco lay next to her, propped up on an elbow. Her wrists were still bound by his belt. Her necklace glittered around her throat and between her beautiful breasts.

Slowly, she turned her eyes to his. She bit her lip, but let go when his gaze dropped to her mouth. 'I came before you said I could,' she said in a wobbly voice.

'I know,' he replied. 'I felt it.'

'Will you punish me?' she whispered.

In response, he leaned over her and slowly, gently and tenderly kissed her – then raised her arms and tied the end of his belt around one of the bed's headboard railings.

* * *

Blaise was struggling, truth be told. God knew why. Most Tinder hook-ups involved drunkenness, and thus the quality of the sex varied according to everyone's inebriation levels. In this case, Astoria was well over three sheets to the wind, but he was almost close to sober.

That made him responsible, damn it all to hell.

He gently pushed her away from his body, before she had a bleary-eyed chance to figure out that he was aroused. 'You can continue pretending to be Astoria, love,' he said. 'I have enough trouble pretending to be me.'

She stumbled back a few paces, then lost her balance on her high heels and toppled over backwards – fortunately, onto the bed.

She stared up at the ceiling in surprise for a few seconds. Then she burst into uncontrollable giggles.

Blaise sighed to himself and headed over. Standing by the bed, he took one of her long, toned legs and undid the clasp around her ankle.

'I'm Astoria!' she said proudly before dissolving into giggles again.

'Nice to meet you, Astoria. I'm Blaise. You have very lovely shoes.' He laid the now bare leg down and picked up the second one. His hand shook a little as he fiddled with the clasp. His erection was getting harder to ignore by the second.

At last, both shoes were safely removed and put in a corner where Astoria wouldn't trip over them, unless she was very unlucky or determined. 'There you go, my lovely,' he said and headed to the bathroom to pour another glass of vodka for her.

'Hey, wait!' she slurred, turning onto her stomach and following his progress. 'You're not done yet!'

'I'm only paid to remove your shoes, love.'

'But I need help removing my bikini!'

Oh, dear Christ, thought Blaise. 'Today's the sort of day when that stays on until I leave,' he called over the rushing water.

'Leave?' she shrieked. 'You can't leave' –

Then she went silent. Ominously silent.

Fearing the worst, Blaise put the glass of water down and turned around. Astoria was woozily leaning against the bathroom door jamb, as pale as a ghost – no, wait – she just turned green.

'Gonna be sick,' she blurted, then clamped a hand over her mouth.

If there was an Olympic sprinting event for the few metres it took him to cross the bathroom, grab Astoria, whisk her to the toilet and flip the lid up –its gold medal would have his name stamped all over it.

Turning a blind eye, deaf ear and plugged-up nose to Astoria's wretched retching, he pulled her hair back from her face and held it behind her while making a mental note to search the job apps on his phone tomorrow.

There must be at least one job he could do that didn't involve babysitting beautiful, blind-drunk, besotted-with-the-boss birds.

* * *

Once Astoria had successfully relocated the contents of her stomach, Blaise helped her up and guided her to the basin. While she put her face under the tap and turned it on full blast, he put her toothbrush and toothpaste in her hand and entered the bedroom to turn down her bed and fluff up her pillows. He switched on a bedside lamp and turned off all the others. Time for Astoria to say good night.

She appeared in the doorway, looking very sorry for herself. She tottered over to the bed and crawled in, snuggling in amongst the pillows. Blaise smiled a little. She looked much younger than usual. Fresher, despite her recent meeting at the porcelain concourse.

'Do you have any painkillers?' he asked.

'Make-up bag in the bathroom,' she mumbled.

He located her pain relief and carried those, with a glass of water, into the bedroom and put them on the bedside table. She was sitting up, which surprised him.

'Do you need something else?'

'Can you turn around, please?' she asked dully.

Shrugging, he did so. A few rustles of material later, a bra and thong appeared on the floor in his peripheral vision. His cock pulsed and he gulped, but when he slowly turned around again, she was safely covered by the bedsheet.

'Well, I think it's time for me to go, love,' Blaise said cheerily. 'Hope your hangover won't be too evil in the morning. I'll put the 'Do Not Disturb' tag on the door as I go, all right?'

To his great consternation, tears started to trickle down Astoria's face. Swallowing his sigh, he headed over to her side of the bed and sat next to her. 'What's the matter, lovely?' he said kindly.

She faced him, her lovely face awash in tears. 'I'm sorry,' she whispered.

'Happy to help,' he assured her. 'You'll probably have to do it for me, one day.'

'No, I meant' – she sniffled, and Blaise grabbed some tissues from the bathroom. 'Please stay with me, Blaise.'

He was already shaking his head. 'It's a bad idea, Tori.'

'Please,' she said again in a small voice. 'I – I miss having someone sleep next to me. That's all.'

Blaise leaned on his elbows and looked down at the carpet between his shoes. Logically, this could turn out to be one of the stupidest things he'd done - this year, at least. Illogically, a woman's tears were, to him, like Kryptonite to Superman. His Ma could turn the waterworks on and off at will.

Bugger it all.

'All right,' he sighed, and Astoria smiled gratefully. 'Thank you,' she whispered.

He walked around to the other side of the bed, pulling his t-shirt over his head and not noticing how her eyes followed him, taking in the sight of his sculpted torso and warm chocolate skin. 'There will be no funny business whatsoever, understood?'

'Yes, sir.'

He jettisoned his shoes and socks. 'Can I borrow your toothbrush?'

She nodded, yawning.

When he finished scrubbing his pearly whites and gave his cock a stern talking to, he headed back into the bedroom to find that she was on the cusp of sleep. He eyed her narrowly, and decided it was safe for him to remove his jeans. He slept nude, even on the plane in the flight crew rest area, but he decided he'd better keep his boxer briefs on this time. In case of an emergency. Like a sleepwalking hand. Or mouth. Or – God help him – a beautiful, soaking wet, tight pussy.

He climbed into bed, and killed the remaining light. Lying on his back with his arms crossed over his chest like King Tut, he stared up at the ceiling and tried to forget about the entire evening.

Soon, however, a hand touched his shoulder. 'Good night, Blaise,' said a small, disembodied voice.

Poor kid.

He leaned over, cupped her face with one hand and gently kissed the top of her head. 'Good night, Tori.'

He smiled when the hand moved away, and he closed his eyes.

* * *

 **A/N: Will Blaise survive the night unmolested? What is Draco planning to do next with Hermione? How fast can a nude, sleeping pilot get dressed if they're suddenly called back to the flight deck? Look for the answers (except to the third question, haha) in chapter 4, upload date TBA. Thank you so much for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: So sorry for the delay in updating. It's winter in my neck of the woods, and I was felled by the 'flu. But enough about me, here is chapter 4!**

* * *

 **Draco's hotel room**

On Draco's bed, Hermione wriggled her arms under Draco's impassive gaze. Now that she was strapped to the headboard, she had very little movement. Her raised arms made her feel utterly vulnerable. She couldn't get free without his help.

She trusted him. But still, a little imp whispered to her that she'd only known this man for two days, and now he called all the shots.

He could do anything to her. Good or bad.

Her pulse hammered and her throat grew tight.

Draco saw fear creep into her eyes. 'Tell me your safe word.'

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

She couldn't remember.

Oh Jesus. She bit her lip.

'Hermione…' he growled.

Alarmed, she tried to scrabble backwards, for all the good it would do, but he clamped a hand around her ankle. 'Safe word!' he barked.

'I don't remember! I'm sorry! I'm still new to this!' she shouted back.

In the blink of an eye, she found herself flipped onto her stomach, twisting the belt about the headboard. The slap against her supremely sensitised buttocks made her scream out loud.

When Draco spoke, his voice was ice.

'How many fucking times have I said you could use the safe word this evening, only to find that you've bloody well forgotten it?' he gritted out. 'Is that why you told me to keep going, every time? Because you'd forgotten it and didn't want to fucking tell me?'

'No!' she screamed, her voice muffled by the bed linen.

'I could have hurt you!' he shouted.

'I'm sorry!'

'Do not, ever, say you're sorry. Just tell me the safe word and this ends,' he said brusquely, applying another slap to her bottom.

Hermione wracked what percentage of her brains she still had control of, but it was impossible. The stinging pain; his heated words. Her pussy throbbed in desperate need.

She had angered him. Worse, she had disappointed him. And she felt like shit.

'Well? Do you remember it now?' _Smack._

'I can't!' she sobbed. 'There's too much happening, I can't think…'

The spanking stopped.

Tiredly, Draco said 'it's an airplane component.' He stood up.

A rustle at the headboard, and her arms were free. She heard him walk away.

Shakily, she sat up and turned around, looking for him. He was standing by the window, looking out at the city. She couldn't see his face in the low light. But he was no longer aroused.

Hermione edged to the bed and slowly stood up. Wiping away her tears, she took a breath and walked slowly over to him. Up close, his patrician features were marble. Closed off.

She tried to swallow away the massive lump in her throat. 'Fuselage,' she whispered.

He didn't move, and Hermione slumped. Everything ruined for the sake of one bloody word.

Her time was up.

She turned away.

Two warm arms pulled her in to his body and held her tight. A hand threaded through her messy hair and gently tugged her face upward. She parted her lips, and he kissed her. Slowly; then with building passion.

Afterwards, he held her again, resting his head on her curls.

'Please remember the safe word, love, especially when you're under pressure,' he said in a low voice. 'It's really important.'

* * *

Back on the bed, Hermione held Draco's cock and gently stroked it into life. He lay on his side, one arm propping his up while he almost absent-mindedly brushed his hand over her waist and hip.

He'd told her that she wasn't ready for bondage. She couldn't really argue. She'd never done it before; how would she know?

She was angry at herself for failing. She almost wanted to make him try again.

She wasn't too sure what had happened during and after their argument. They had each learned something new about other. Something intimate, for all that it was upsetting. Where that left them – she didn't know. And wasn't brave enough to ask.

Her gaze wandered down her legs. 'My shoes are still on!' she noted in surprise.

'I'll get them.' Draco kissed her nose, climbed off the bed and headed to the end. She watched as he raised one of her legs up to shoulder height and studied the diamante clasp.

He threw her a brief glance, then delicately pushed the strap through the buckle with his tongue.

Her eyes grew round.

He used his teeth to pull the strap free of the buckle's prong, then slowly pulled the strap through the buckle with his lips, dropping kisses on her ankle as he progressed.

He pulled the sandal off her foot, smirking.

'Truly, you are a man of many talents,' she marvelled.

He laughed and moved to her other leg.

When he removed the second sandal, he ran his thumb over her instep, causing Hermione to yelp and practically twist out of his grip.

He grinned. 'Ticklish?'

'Only a little,' she gasped.

'What a pity,' he smirked, kissing the top of her big toe. He then lowered her foot a little, and kissed the arch of her foot.

Then her ankle.

Then he moved to her calf.

Hermione closed her eyes and concentrated on the feel of his hands, lips and tongue on her legs.

But when he got to her knee, he stopped, and let go.

She cranked open an eye and watched him head around to the side of the bed again, a playful smile on his lips. He climbed on and stretched himself out alongside her, but with his head next to her feet – and his feet next to her head.

She raised an eyebrow. 'Do you want your toes sucked?' she asked archly.

'Oh, no,' he smirked. 'I want something else sucked. Slide down.'

As she inched further down the bed, he swiftly moved up, so that his face was level with her trimmed pussy – and his cock was by her lips. He bent his top leg at the knee and angled his pelvis to Hermione's face. She engulfed his erection with her mouth, snaking an arm between his legs and holding on to his thigh to keep him close. He hissed out his breath.

She did the same with her leg and exposed her pussy to his mouth. He grasped her thigh and angled his head so that he could clearly see her glistening labia and clitoris.

He'd had a short taste of her earlier in the evening; and he wanted a lot more.

Hermione moaned when Draco's mouth sank onto her pussy, causing his cock to thrum in her own mouth. This, in turn, caused Draco to groan – sending tiny vibrations over her labia lips and into her cunt.

They used their mouths, tongues and lips on each other, backing up with fingers. Draco pushed one, two, then three long fingers into Hermione's welcoming pussy, while she played with his balls. Draco's hip movements increased in force, and she took as much of his shaft into her wet mouth and throat as she could. Meanwhile, she could feel the tingling in the pit of her stomach that signalled her orgasm was building.

Draco knew, because her delicious pussy became wetter and wetter. He, in turn, was struggling to stave off his own orgasm. Her mouth and throat were ethereal.

But he had more plans.

Which meant no-one was coming yet.

He pulled away, telling Hermione to sit up. He moved to the middle of the bed and lay on his back. He crooked a finger at her cockily, and she moved over him, facing his legs. She spread her knees and lowered her pussy to his face, ready to lean over his gorgeous, toned body to engulf his steel-hard cock.

'Turn around,' he said.

Confused, she sat up and swivelled, straddling his hips while she faced him.

He laughed. 'Nope, you're too far away.'

She shuffled towards him on her knees. 'It would help if you told me what we were doing.'

His eyebrows rose. 'You can't tell?'

'No,' she replied – but almost immediately, the penny dropped, and she stopped. 'Ah, no, I don't think so,' she said shyly.

He smiled and held out a hand. 'Come on.'

'I won't enjoy it, I'd be too worried about suffocating you.'

He raised himself up on his elbows. 'Love, believe it or not, having a woman sit on my face while I lick and suck and eat out every square inch of her exquisite pussy is a massive turn-on for me. I won't force you to do anything you don't want to do, but I have a lot of experience with this position, and I promise you won't suffocate me.'

She looked sceptical.

'I'll use the safe signal if I have to.'

Interesting. Draco Malfoy, The Man in Control, almost sounds like he's _begging_. A smile played on Hermione's lips. 'All right,' she said. 'If...'

He blinked, then smirked. 'If what, lovely?'

 _'If_ you make me come.'

He laughed. 'That's a given, don't you worry.'

'We'll see,' she returned. 'Because if you don't…' she plied her own smirk – 'I tie you up.'

Something flared in Draco's eyes, and he visibly swallowed. Then he nodded. 'All right.'

She held out her hand, and they shook on it.

* * *

Still holding Hermione's hand, he pulled her up his body. She placed her knees on either side of his head, and couldn't resist a quick look between her legs, where she found Draco grinning up at her. Holding on to the headboard for balance, she lowered herself onto him, placing her vulva over his mouth.

He got straight to work.

He wrapped his hands and arms around her thighs and licked, with speed, all over her lips and clitoris. Hermione moaned; having her thighs spread apart like this made her feel vulnerable, even if she was the one on top. It felt like more of her pussy was available to Draco; and he took every advantage, exploring her intimately. He used his hands to push and pull her where he wanted. Sometimes he was tonguing her perineum; other times he was stimulating her pulsing clit. But he was never far away from her dripping cunt.

'Oh, God, yes!' she moaned when he plunged his tongue into her soaking wet channel, ravenously probing and drinking her in. Her thighs started to shake, joining her pulsing clit. Her hips rocked, almost of their own volition.

Which is right when Draco pulled her straight onto his face.

'Fuck!' she yelped when she felt his tongue spear far into her cunt, lashing her g-spot relentlessly. She was going to come, she could feel it building, sending her pelvis into spasms, pushing her cunt further into his face. Dimly, she thought about his comfort, and tried to kneel up, but his hands were like clamps on her thighs and he refused to let go. He even growled to show his disapproval, and the movement of his lips on her clitoris was too much, too much –

'Draco!' she sobbed out as she let go of the headboard and flung her head back in ecstasy. Her channel, once dripping wet, became almost a river as her come spilled from her body into Draco's eager mouth. His cock rock-hard, he drank and drank from her. She tasted like ambrosia. The best he'd ever had. It was addictive.

Like the rest of her.

Hermione moved off his face and knelt on either side of his chest, leaning back slightly on her arms. Both were breathing hard.

Draco wiped his face with his hands, then licked them clean. 'Wow!' he exclaimed, his eyes dancing. 'God, that was good.'

Hermione rolled her eyes on a smile. 'It was okay.'

'Okay?' Draco sat up, pretending to be outraged. 'I'll show you 'okay,' woman.'

In a single movement, he lifted her by the waist and sheathed her on his cock.

Her still-sensitive pussy immediately contracted around him, and she gasped.

With his hands on her hips, he rocked her back and forth on his cock while her moans built up around him. 'God, you feel so good,' she whispered, grinding down on him.

'Because we're the perfect fit,' he replied, kissing her exposed throat.

However, the mean bastard that he was, he slowed to a stop. He lay back down on the bed, instructing Hermione to turn around and give him her sweet pussy once more to eat out, while she slid his steel-hard cock into her mouth.

This time, Hermione worked a wet hand up and down Draco's cock as she sucked on its head. But when he flicked his tongue at lightning speed over her clitoris and brushed his thumb over her arsehole she wailed, and her hips started to tremble.

She pulled herself off his cock to gasp 'You're going to make me come again…'

'Good,' Draco muttered. That was it.

Oh God, he is just so good, too good with that tongue, she thought hazily. His fingers were pulsing in and out of her, and it was all she could do to keep tonguing and sucking on his cock. Her hand was no longer doing what she wanted it to do. She used it instead to keep her balance.

Her orgasm was building, and her thighs, on either side of Draco's head, were shaking. 'Draco…' she moaned around his cock.

He put his hands on her hips and pulled her harshly down onto his face. He stabbed his tongue into her drenched cunt, over and over.

'Omigod!' Hermione cried as her pussy clenched in ecstasy around Draco's tongue. Sweet juices flooded her cunt once more and he relished every drop.

But before she could even draw breath, he'd flipped her over. Now she was lying face-up on the bed, and Draco's cock was suspended above her.

While he licked and cleaned her pussy, she drew a deep breath, remembered her safe signal, and let him fuck her mouth and throat.

Draco did his best to control his hips – this wasn't her pussy he was fucking, as he well knew. But he was nearing his point of no return, and he wanted nothing more than to come into her hot, wet mouth. That was how he came with her the first time, two nights ago – and it hadn't been far from his thoughts since.

God, the wet sounds her mouth made when she took him in her mouth… not being able to see her fellate him made it even sexier. He had to rely on sound and touch. And both were fucking amazing.

It was coming, deliciously building and spreading through him. His hip movements became erratic, stronger and faster. Hermione wrapped her hand about the base of his cock to prevent him from pushing too far – and it was that movement that sent him soaring.

'Oh, fuck!' he gritted out as he felt his come expel from his cock and into Hermione's warm, willing mouth. She swallowed his semen, ran her tongue around his cock's head, then he raised his hips.

She rolled out from underneath him, just before he gave up command of his arms and sank onto the bed.

They stayed like that for a while.

* * *

Draco and Hermione enjoyed a shower together, then drifted off to bed. Draco left the curtains open, as he did two nights ago. The uncertainty he felt back then was missing now; they had one more night together, at least.

She curled up around his body while they both looked out over the lights of the city; lost in their thoughts, but not ready to sleep yet.

Draco's free hand drifted to his cock. It was erect again. Maybe his body knew something his mind wasn't ready to face.

He turned his head and dropped a soft kiss on her forehead. She looked up at him; the city lights reflected in her beautiful eyes.

'I want you,' she whispered.

He slowly moved on top of her and settled between her open legs. He slid smoothly into her hot, wet pussy, and she accepted him with a soft moan. He lowered his head to hers and they kissed while they gently rocked their bodies against each other.

This time, he watched Hermione's face closely as her orgasm approached. Her eyes widened, as if in surprise, and her breathing became shallow. She clenched her teeth as the exquisite sensations built up in her body, and when her pussy clamped over his cock and wetness flooded her channel, she closed her eyes and exposed her throat to him.

He sucked the skin at the hollow of her throat as he let go, shuddering as his orgasm hit his body.

A little later, after he'd helped clean his come from her, he watched the now-sleeping woman beside him.

And realised that for the first time ever, he'd made love.

* * *

 **Astoria's hotel room**

Blaise cautiously opened an eye.

Something wasn't right in the state of Denmark.

A woman had draped herself over half of his body.

A quick recap of the previous hours' events led him to deduce that the body was more than likely the property of one Astoria Greengrass.

And God, did it feel good.

She smelled sweet – strawberries, with a little mint. He felt the warm comfort of her body extend all the way down his. One of her perfect breasts was resting on his chest, and an arm was draped across his collarbones. Further south, a bent leg nestled between both of his; her knee rather close to his cock, a situation it appeared to be quite happy with.

He opened both eyes.

His fucking underwear was missing.

No good, no good.

He commenced the complicated routine practiced by many regretful bedfellows the world over, i.e. sneaking out of bed and heading for the hills without waking the incumbent.

Fortunately for Blaise, he'd had some experience to draw on.

Unfortunately for Blaise, Astoria had some experience, too.

'Blaise…' she murmured, just as he managed to dangle an arm and a leg off the side of the bed. And before you could say 'No thanks, I have a headache,' she vaulted on top of him, straddled his pelvis and sucked most of the breath out of him with a limpet-like kiss.

He dragged in some air after Astoria removed her tongue from his mouth. 'Tori, what the hell?'

In the dark, he felt her undulate over his considerable erection, the bloody traitor. 'You're a fantastic fuck,' she said breathily. 'I want more.'

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Back up the bus.

'We did not have sex,' he said flatly.

Astoria's wet pussy kept grinding along his cock. 'Yeah, we did.'

'How? I've been asleep until a minute ago!'

'You must have sleep-fucked me.' She didn't seem particularly worried.

'What? Okay, that's it. Get off.'

When Astoria made no such movement, Blaise reached out, gently-but-firmly put his hands around her waist and lifted her off him. He rolled out of bed and turned a light on.

She blinked up at him, naked and beautiful, sprawled sexily among the bedsheets. Her gaze dropped to his hard-on (deflating by the second) and she licked her lips.

Blaise ran a distracted hand through his hair and looked for his clothes. 'Tori,' he started, 'there is no way I could have had sex with you while I was asleep. I will put this' – he waved a hand in her direction – _'situation_ down to you being a bit confused owing to the drink, and we'll say no more about it. All right?'

He pulled on his jeans, paying attention to where the zipper went, then his t-shirt. He found his socks and shoes and started putting them on.

'We did have sex,' she snarled. 'You can't just fuck me and deny that it happened.'

He took a breath. He didn't want to lose his temper and make things a hundred times worse, but boy, was she pushing his buttons. Ungrateful bitch. 'You're right. I can't. Because I never bloody fucked you in the first place!'

Oops. Guess all his buttons just got pushed.

Her mouth fell open. 'Are you seriously going to deny that you fucked me and just leave?' she snapped.

Shoes on, Blaise felt for his card key card and phone. God knows what she did with his underwear, and right now, he didn't care.

He grasped the remaining tendrils of his patience. 'Look, love, I'm not in a good headspace right now. We'll talk the morning, daylight morning, all right?'

She threw him a look of pure loathing.

Shaking his head, he crossed to the door and let himself out.

'Bastard!' she screamed as the door closed.

* * *

 **A/N: Oh, dear…**

 **At least Draco and Hermione are having a good night, despite the rocky start, eh.**

 **What will morning bring in chapter 5? Thanks so much for reading!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N Hi everyone! What will the morning bring for Dramione and Blastoria? Wait. Is there a Blastoria?**

 **Trigger: accusation of sexual assault. I think you all know how it will pan out, but the trigger is up, just in case. Investigating these matters can be difficult for everyone involved, particularly for the main parties.**

 **Thanks so much for your reads and reviews, I luvs 'em!**

* * *

Draco woke. Hermione wasn't next to him.

His heart leapt into his throat.

She was gone. He pushed her too hard last night; and she'd gone.

He sat up abruptly. In the thin light of the morning, he looked around the room.

She was standing by the windows, nude, watching the day slowly creep over the mountains and hit the city buildings.

He let out a breath. He would revisit the reaction he just had later.

But for now…

He climbed out of bed and headed towards her with a hand on his erection, stroking it.

He pulled her hair away from her shoulder and kissed it. 'Good morning.'

'Good morning.' She smiled and reached back to clasp the back of his head, looking at their reflection in the window glass. 'This is such a fantastic view.' She nodded at the scenery outside.

'Sure is,' he replied, looking only at her.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her gently towards him. She couldn't miss the insistence of his erection prodding her back. 'It's an even lovelier view from my flight deck.'

She smiled. 'I'll have to take your word for it.'

Draco missed the days when you could invite anyone you wanted onto the flight deck. He remembered a time when he was a newly-qualified First Officer on a flight, and the Captain let his girlfriend onto the flight deck. She sat on his lap and they started making out; then she unzipped the Captain's trousers with a saucy smile. He grinned at Draco, tossed him his phone and asked him to film his girlfriend sucking his substantial cock.

Which, of course, he did.

It was an enjoyable, albeit frustrating, experience.

That memory only served to make him harder. He ran his hands over Hermione's body.

'Put your hands on the window,' he said in a low voice.

She turned her head to raise an eyebrow.

'You won't break it. It's toughened. Go on.'

'Where should I put them?'

'Wherever it's comfortable.'

With that cryptic remark, Hermione turned back to the large window and placed her hands on it at shoulder height. He brushed his fingers over her hip and towards her clitoris – and gently circled it. She gasped; then moaned.

'You can change position, but you're not to move your hands from the window,' he murmured.

In the window's reflection, she met his gaze and smiled.

A challenge.

His finger moved between her legs; and he tested out the lips of her pussy. She shifted and gasped, wanting more from him. He smiled. This boded well…

Oh, God yes. His finger slid easily into her pussy; it was deliciously hot and wet.

'I'm going to fuck you up against this window,' he murmured into her ear.

An incoherent moan left her mouth.

'Who knows if anyone is looking up, or over?' he asked lightly.

She didn't reply, but her cunt got wetter. He slid another finger inside.

He smirked. 'I believe, Ms Granger, that the thought of someone watching us fuck turns you on.'

'I-I don't know why it does,' she stammered.

'You look stunning naked,' he said. 'I bet most men watching you orgasm would come in their pants.'

She laughed a little, grinding against his fingers. Fuck, she felt delicious.

'Have you filmed yourself having sex?'

She stilled. Shook her head.

He let the topic drop. He piled up her hair in his hand and slowly kissed her neck. 'Are you ready for me, love?' he whispered.

'Yes…'

He angled her into position, lined his cock up to her glistening pussy, and thrust in hard with a groan of satisfaction.

* * *

Hermione nearly found herself plastered up against the window with the force of his thrust. She locked her arms, and absorbed his powerful movements.

She could tell she was wildly wet; more so than her previous encounters with him. And she'd never been this wet with another man before. Was it because of the possibility of voyeurs, as he suggested? Did she find the idea of people watching her fucking - being fucked by - this unbelievable man arousing?

She closed her eyes and imagined someone in one of the nearby business towers. He'd come into the office early to get a head start on work. He'd dump his briefcase, take off his suit jacket, pick up his takeaway coffee and wander to the window to watch the morning begin. His gaze would flick to the nearby high-rise hotel, and oh my bloody God, there's a naked couple having sex against one of their wall-length windows.

She's being fucked, hard, from behind. Her full breasts bounce with every thrust. Her head is thrown back, and her mouth is open. She's moaning. Or screaming.

The officer worker's free hand would unzip his trousers with him barely noticing. He'd free his erect cock and stroke it in time with the man as he thrust inside the beautiful woman…

Hermione gasped and opened her eyes. Hell, that was such a turn-on. 'I'm going to come,' she gasped. Each movement he made was sweet, relentless torture.

Draco kept up with his thrusts, his hands gripping her hips. 'No, you're not,' he said mildly. It didn't even sound like he was out of breath, the bastard.

Oh, fuck, no – she was so close. She would have furiously rubbed her clitoris for the less than five seconds it would have taken her to come, if it wasn't for the fact that she couldn't remove her hands from the window. God, sometimes she could cheerfully wrap her hands around his throat and –

Draco changed his angle and thrust up against her g-spot.

'Please!' she begged.

'Nope,' he replied. She could see his eyes glittering in the reflection.

She screwed her eyes shut and breathed in and out. Fine. If that's how he wants to play it…

She contracted her vaginal muscles as hard as she could.

'Fuck!' stuttered Draco, losing his rhythm.

She did it again, holding it for a little longer this time.

'Christ…' he began to speed up, and Hermione heard his breath start to labour.

'Draco, I want to feel your hard cock come in my pussy,' she whispered. 'I want you to fill me with your cock and with your come.' She wasn't very good at talking dirty, so this would have to do. It was bringing her to the brink of orgasm again, so she prayed that Draco was also losing control.

'I know what you're doing, woman,' he said tightly.

She contracted her muscles again. 'Bloody hell!' he swore.

'It'll feel so good when you come in my tight cunt,' she continued. 'My pussy's going to grip your cock so hard as your come shoots into me' –

'Fuck, I'm coming!' Draco moaned, and his cock pulsed stream after stream of come inside her. Hermione, at last, gave in to her orgasm, delivering to Draco exactly what she promised – and more.

* * *

It was still early, and they had the day to themselves.

Hermione went back to bed while Draco had a shower. She was just dozing off again when there was a knock at the door.

Cautiously, Hermione sat up. The shower was still running; Draco hadn't heard the knock. Did he order room service the night before? She couldn't remember.

Another knock.

Hermione climbed out of bed and put on Draco's shirt from last night, the closest thing to hand. Checking that it covered her relatively decently, she opened the door.

A lovely young woman with mascara-streaked eyes stood pathetically outside the door. She wore white jeans with a floaty top that Hermione could see straight through.

'Oh, Draco, thank God, he was so horrible to me' – the woman blubbered. Then she saw Hermione. She took in Hermione's outfit, and her face hardened. 'Who are you?' she demanded coldly.

Snap, thought Hermione. I was going to ask you the same thing.

* * *

Hermione didn't move from the door. 'Hermione,' she said briefly, waiting for the blonde to introduce herself.

She didn't. 'Oh,' she sniffled, 'I must have knocked on the wrong door. I'm very sorry' –

Hermione thought about letting her go, but she'd just come back again. 'If you're looking for Draco, he's in the shower,' she said.

Astoria's mouth fell open briefly, before she recovered herself. 'Oh,' she whispered, 'I really need to talk to him. It's important, otherwise I wouldn't have disturbed him at this hour.' Her bottom lip wobbled professionally.

I bet, thought Hermione sardonically. 'Come in, and I'll let him know you're here. You are…?'

A flicker of annoyance crossed Astoria's face. 'Astoria,' she said shortly. 'I'm one of his cabin crew.' She might as well have said 'I'm one of Draco's harem, just like you.'

Hermione watched Astoria sail into the room. She let the door close, and crossed to the bathroom.

* * *

Draco was towelling himself dry when she let herself in. He smiled sexily at her. 'You look good in my shirt,' he said approvingly. But when he saw her reserved face, he crossed over to her. 'What's wrong?'

Hermione swallowed. 'Someone called Astoria is in the room. She wants to talk to you. Something about someone treating her horribly.'

Draco rolled his eyes. 'Probably a Tinder date that didn't go the way she wanted,' he muttered.

'She gave the impression of being quite upset,' Hermione said cautiously. He noted her careful words.

'Jesus,' he muttered softly. 'I'm sorry, love.'

She gave him a smile that didn't meet her eyes and shrugged. 'Duty calls,' she quipped. 'I understand. I'll have a shower, then go. You two need privacy.' She hoped that didn't come out as sounding as disappointed as she felt.

'No,' he said stubbornly. 'I promised you we'd spend the day together. I'll get her manager' -

She reached up and touched his cheek. 'You could come over to my place when you're done here,' she suggested. 'Get away from the hotel.'

That sounded good. Very, very good. He sighed, but nodded and drew her into a hug. 'Thanks for understanding,' he whispered.

'Of course,' she said, closing her eyes against her white lie.

* * *

Astoria straightened up when the bathroom door opened. She was standing a little too close to Hermione's open bag. Hermione walked towards her, not breaking eye contact until she picked her bag up. By then, Astoria had the person she wanted in her sights.

'Oh, Draco!' she wailed, and flung herself into his not-quite-surprised arms. He felt the towel he was wearing shift, and he hoped he'd tucked it in tight enough. He had a feeling a mere towel wouldn't be enough of an anti-Astoria barrier.

'Oh dear, Stori,' he said, patting her back and raising his eyebrows at Hermione, who walked past them into the bathroom. 'Look, love. I need to get dressed, then we'll have a chat, all right? Have some coffee if you like.'

She sniffled. 'Okay,' she said in a small voice.

He disentangled himself from her grip, and grabbed some clothes. He could feel her eyes boring into his arse as he headed to the bathroom. He got that feeling a lot around her.

Hermione was in the shower when he entered. He watched her soaping her body. He was so tempted to join her, but if he didn't come out of the bathroom soon, Astoria would probably barge in. So he forced his erection down and dressed.

Hermione watched him through the water-spattered shower glass. Like almost everything he did, it was sexy. She wiped some of the condensation off the glass with her hand.

Draco caught her eye. He smiled, put his fingers to his lips and placed them on the other side of the shower glass where her hand rested. She smiled back.

His heart full, he left the bathroom, now in a better headspace to deal with Astoria.

* * *

Draco tried to keep his face neutral, but it was bloody hard. 'So, you're telling me,' he said carefully, 'that Blaise sexually assaulted you?'

Once more, Astoria's face crumpled into tears, and she reached for another tissue. 'H-he t-took advantage of my d-drunken state!' she warbled.

Draco ran a hand over his face. Fucking, fucking hell.

The bathroom door open, and he leapt up from his chair. 'Hermione.'

Clean and fresh, Hermione sat down on the bed to fasten her shoes – the ones Draco removed with his mouth last night. When she was done, Draco took her hand and gently pulled her up, then into a hug.

'I'll text you my address,' she murmured against his lips. 'Give me a call if you're not done by midday.'

Not a problem. Draco planned to be very done by midday. He kissed her gently. 'I hope I'll see you sooner.'

Hermione smiled. She picked up her bag and headed to the door. 'Nice to meet you, Astoria,' she said neutrally.

Neither she nor Draco missed the brief hard glare that came her way.

* * *

'No!' Astoria cried pathetically from the other side of the table, where Draco had told her to sit. 'I want to stay with you!'

Draco already had the beginnings of a headache, and it wasn't even seven a.m. 'Stori, love, you need to speak to Theo about this. You report to him.'

'But I've told you everything!' she wailed.

'I know,' he replied evenly, 'but the airline will need Blaise's side of the story. And Theo can't do that. Just me, until we get back to Head Office.'

She sulked.

He got up from his chair and knelt down by her. 'Come on, sweetheart, I'll take you to your room and send Theo over.'

She reluctantly nodded, and slowly stood up from her chair.

'Do you want me to find someone to sit with you?' Draco asked. 'Pansy, or' –

'No, no,' Astoria replied dully. 'I'll be all right.'

'Let Theo know if you change your mind,' he replied, and got out his phone to text Theo and Blaise.

* * *

'Fuck! Fucking fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck FUCK!'

Blaise was absolutely livid. Dressed only in his jeans, he stormed around his room, dashing a pile of flight manuals and paperwork from the table to the floor in anger.

Draco kept his sigh to himself and waited for Blaise to calm down. So far, all Draco had done was tell Blaise, as gently as he could, what Astoria had accused him of. He expected Blaise to be more shocked than angry. He didn't expect him to be so utterly enraged.

'That bitch is going to ruin my fucking career!' he shouted. 'Fucking hell!'

'Only if you did it,' replied Draco neutrally.

Blaise rounded on him. 'Of course I didn't fucking do it!' he raged. 'Never in my goddamn life have I ever forced a woman' – he stopped, took a breath, and tried to calm down.

He curled his hands into fists, then slowly unfurled them. He sat down heavily on his rumpled bed. 'I'll tell you what happened last night,' he ground out.

Draco leaned forward and listened.

* * *

An hour and a half later, Theo and Draco met for coffee by the pool, sitting on a couple of deck chairs that faced each other. Theo wasn't looking his usual pristine self. He adjusted his sunglasses and ran his fingers over his stubble.

Draco noticed the slight shake to Theo's hands. 'Too much coffee or too much booze?' he asked.

Theo looked at the cup in his hand. 'Both, I think,' he mumbled.

Draco nodded. 'I'm on my third coffee already.'

Draco and Theo compared notes. Astoria and Blaise's version of events were similar up until the time they said good night – then they differed significantly.

Blaise said he woke up to find his undies missing and Astoria touching him. She initiated sex, but he declined as politely as he could, got dressed and left. He also said that she told him that they'd had sex already, and got angry when he said it couldn't have happened.

Astoria said she woke up to find Blaise between her legs, trying to push his cock inside her. She screamed and pushed him off; he got dressed and scarpered.

She said she wasn't injured enough to need medical attention. It basically boiled down to her word against his.

'Did Astoria want to lay a complaint with the Police?' asked Draco.

Theo shook his head. 'I'm not sure if that will help her case any, but it's totally up to her. Anyway. I think we've taken it as far as we can. I'll have to involve Human Resources.'

'Yeah,' Draco agreed dully. Which meant the chances of everyone else in the airline finding out what happened would increase significantly. Head Office had more holes than a sieve.

'I propose that we send Astoria home today,' said Draco. 'I expect that both are professional to work together on tomorrow's flight, but it wouldn't be comfortable for her. It's easier to replace a cabin crew member with local staff than to find a First Officer on short notice.'

Theo agreed. 'I'll get on it.' he said, pulling out his phone. Then he looked up. 'What was Zabini thinking, getting into bed with her?' he asked in a low voice.

Draco sighed. 'He's a sucker for criers.'

'Christ.' Theo lay back in his chair. 'He'd better get over that if he wants to make Captain, or he'll be suckered in by every manipulative bitch that wants an upgrade.'

'Assuming he remains employed.'

'Shit,' muttered Theo. 'What a mess.'

Draco drained his coffee, stood up and stretched. 'I'm going to officially hand over this little pickle to you. But you know you can call on me if you need back-up.'

'Cheers,' Theo said sarcastically, but he smiled all the same.

'Although…' Draco prevaricated, 'if you could keep your calls to urgent ones today, I'd appreciate it.'

Theo pulled down his sunglasses and grinned at Draco. 'Hot date?' he asked.

Draco smirked. 'The hottest.'

* * *

Draco double-checked the address on his phone with the one outside the Uber, and hopped out. 'Cheers, mate,' he said to the driver, who tootled off.

Hermione lived in one of a row of modern terraced houses, painted in grey with black trim. Draco opened the black wrought-iron trellis gate and headed up the short, flower-lined path to her door.

Looking at it, he thought back to how he felt this morning when he thought she'd gone. They had one more night, and that was it, for the short-term, anyway. His roster for the next few weeks didn't bring him back here. Beyond that – who knew.

A few days ago, he remembered that he was looking forward to just getting this week done, and then he'd be on a week's leave. Then he met Hermione, and…

So much has happened.

He took out his phone and brought up his airline's website.

He was about to do something stupid.

* * *

Hermione answered the ringing doorbell with a smile. 'You're early,' she said. 'I'm glad.'

'Me too,' said Draco with feeling.

He followed her through the small hallway and into her living room. Despite the dark exterior of the house, inside it was light and airy. The sun glinted off Hermione's curls, and she looked delicious in a short, yellow belted sundress. He reached for her and drew her to him. His kiss was almost desperate. It took Hermione's breath away.

She stepped back and placed a hand on his jaw, gently stroking his skin. 'Sorry about your rough morning,' she said sympathetically.

Draco closed her eyes and experienced her touch. 'I'm off the clock now,' he said. 'It's just us.'

'Sounds lovely,' she smiled. 'What would you like to do?'

He opened his eyes. They glittered. 'Where's your bedroom?'

* * *

It was upstairs, a wide room with polished floors and an attic ceiling that threatened to catch Draco's head if he ventured too near some parts of the room. Hermione's bed was an antique wrought-iron affair, not too large, not too small. A bathroom, complete with a large claw-foot bath, was next door.

They slowly removed each other's clothes while they kissed, reluctant to part.

Hermione's sun dress was on the floor, along with Draco's shirt, when he gently pulled away and looked at the bedroom window, with its sheer curtains billowing gently in the breeze.

'What's wrong?' Hermione asked, nervous. 'We're not going to have sex up against this window, are we?'

'Not this time,' he grinned. 'I was just looking at the light in the room. It's really beautiful.'

'Oh.' Hermione looked for herself. As far as she was concerned, it was just light. She turned back to Draco, who looked at her assessingly.

'I want to take some photos of you,' he said.

She shook her head. 'I – I'm not sure,' she said doubtfully.

'I won't include your face,' he said, 'or anything that could identify you.'

He always sounded so reasonable, damn him.

She looked down at the floor.

'Do I get final say on which photos can be kept?'

He smirked. 'Your opinion is always welcome.'

She mock-glared. 'Final say,' she repeated.

He laughed. 'Final say,' he confirmed. 'You drive a hard bargain, woman.'

She smirked back. 'I'm worth it.'

Fuck, yeah, he thought.

* * *

He started out with Hermione partly dressed, to ease her into the situation. He only had his phone on him to take the photos with, which wasn't fantastic, but if he never saw her again…

Well. They would do.

Hermione wore his shirt, buttoned in a couple of places to accentuate her waist. She had nothing on underneath. She stood at the window, facing away from him with her hands caught up in her hair, exposing her neck. Her long, slim legs were displayed, from her ankles to her bottom.

She looked at his phone after he shot a couple of pictures. 'Black and white,' she commented. 'That's really nice.'

'I like black and white,' he admitted. 'Especially for this sort of thing.'

Ah, of course. He'd done it before. Briefly, Hermione had a cold moment as she wondered whether her photo file will be consigned to the part of his computer he kept for all his other conquests who'd agreed to pose for him. She took a breath and shook it off. 'Glad you know what you're doing,' she winked.

'Want to try some more?' he asked.

She nodded shyly.

For her next pose, she sat on the windowsill with one leg bent on the sill, and the other on the ground. She blushed when her pussy was exposed. Draco's shirt sat casually on her shoulders, open, partly obscuring her breasts. She turned her face away from him, looking out of the window.

He took some pictures and checked his phone. They were amazing. Hermione did sexy so effortlessly.

Briefly, he thought of Astoria, who had yet to learn that putting everything on display usually attracted men you didn't really want to know.

Reluctantly, Hermione took a look at his phone. Then she nodded. 'That's not bad,' she said. Then she grinned. 'And you chopped my head off, like you promised!'

Draco kissed her nose. 'Of course,' he said. 'Think you're ready to remove my shirt?'

Hermione swallowed, but she nodded bravely.

For his next photo, Hermione sat on her bed, nude. She drew her legs in to her chest and wrapped her arms over them, careful to keep her back straight. Her beautiful, long, curly hair fell down her naked back. Draco stood behind her to take the photos.

With each pose, he grew harder. Before long, his hands will start to shake from the need to sink himself inside her.

The final photo was Draco's favourite. Hermione lay on the wooden floor, arching her back and bending her legs so that her heels were raised and she was on tip-toe. Her arms lay on the floor above her head, highlighting her beautiful breasts, nipples and stomach. Her head was turned away from him.

He hesitated, but took pictures that included her head. He was certain she couldn't be recognised. Not that he had any intention of these photos leaving his possession, ever.

He held his breath while she slowly scrolled through the latest photos. Eventually she looked up with an unreadable face, and handed the phone back to him. 'Okay,' she whispered.

He hugged her. Another challenge overcome, and he didn't even have to voice it.

She stepped back. 'Remove your clothes,' she said, and walked over to the bed.

* * *

Astoria threw her clothes into her suitcase in a rage. This wasn't how it was meant to be, she told herself furiously. Draco was meant to feel sorry for me, would stay with me and want to make sure I was okay, then he wouldn't be able to resist me. Now I'm being fucking sent home.

She roughly zipped up the suitcase. It's that bloody woman's fault, she thought darkly. The one in his room with the stupidly posh name and bed hair like a hurricane. If she wasn't around, I'd have had him.

At least she won't be sniffing around him when he gets back home, she thought.

As for Blaise…

A means to an end.

No. She wouldn't think about him anymore.

* * *

 **A/N Well. It's all on, one way or another. Will Human Resources believe the truth? Will Draco and Hermione be content with a long-distance relationship when he has no say over where he flies? Please stay tuned for the next chapter!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Right! Is everybody sitting comfortably? Then we'll begin!**

 **Draco's 'stupid thing' is revealed...**

* * *

On Hermione's bed, Draco sank into her body, covering her mouth with his. Tasting her.

He raised her arms above her head, pinning her hands to the pillows with one hand while he moved sinuously over her and inside her.

His free hand trailed down the side of her body to her thigh. He pulled her leg over his hip, opening her even more to him.

Hermione closed her eyes and luxuriated in the exquisite sensations he created in her. She initially thought he'd want to be hard and fast, but once more, he surprised her with his slow, measured intensity.

It was beautiful. She didn't want it to end.

He let go of her hands. She couldn't help it; her fingers drifted to her clitoris. Each stroke he made sent his cock surging over her g-spot, and the intensity of her approaching orgasm grew. She moaned, stimulating herself.

Draco captured her moan with his mouth and increased his movements.

She brushed her free hand along his cheekbone, and he closed his eyes at her touch. Then she placed her fingers from her other hand, glistening with her body's liquid, into his mouth. He sucked them ravenously.

'I'm gonna come,' she breathed.

'I can feel it,' he whispered, feeling his balls tighten. 'Hermione, I' –

Whatever he was going to say was cut off by her moan as she came apart, letting the sensation course through her body.

Draco prepared to join her, revelling in her cunt's incredible, tight wetness.

He came into her pussy, shuddering through each ejaculation.

Reluctantly, he carefully pulled out of her and slumped back onto the bed, his chest heaving.

Hermione watched him from her end of the bed through half-closed eyes. She had the look of a woman who'd been very thoroughly shagged.

She made to swing a leg off the bed, but he put a hand on her ankle. 'Stay.'

She did, although not without a little trepidation. The memory of the night at the restaurant was still very fresh.

Instead, to her surprise, Draco lay face-down on the bed before her. He wrapped his arms around Hermione's thighs and pulled her wet, dripping cunt towards him.

She squeaked in surprise. Surely he's not going to…

Draco thrust his tongue as deep as he could into her pussy, and her squeak became a wail.

'Oh, my fucking God!'

She couldn't believe how good it felt, his tongue stabbing into her still-sensitised pussy. She pictured him tonguing and swallowing their mixed come, and she pinched her nipples hard. God, she was turned on.

Her pussy must have gotten wetter, because Draco made a sound of appreciation without letting up from her flesh.

In the blink of an eye, he moved his tongue to her clitoris, lashing it, while he slid two long fingers inside her. They probed and swirled, scooping up the fluids his tongue couldn't reach.

Hermione's legs shook, and her back arched off the bed. 'Make me come!' she gasped between gritted teeth.

Draco's fingers sped up to an unbelievable speed, and fucking her cunt relentlessly. He added a thumb to her clit to join his tongue. His eyes never left her.

'Oh, sweet fucking God!' Hermione wailed as her orgasm pulsed hard through her entire body. Draco's exclamation of triumph was muffled by the burst of creamy fluid that gushed from her pussy. He drank from her body, addicted to her taste.

Eventually, he sat up, rubbing her juices off his face. She sat up too, and he grinned at her, wiggling his eyebrows.

She laughed, and fell back onto the bed.

'You can shower first,' she mumbled.

Two arms scooped her up. 'Nope,' he said, and carried her to the bathroom.

* * *

Refreshed, they returned to bed and spent a few hours in each other's arms, talking lazily about this and that.

Hermione discovered that Draco wasn't much good at cooking, but his French grandmother taught him to make a sublime chocolate mousse.

Draco discovered that Hermione's passion was horses, and that her dream was to win Badminton until her absentee father, who made up for his lack of parenting by throwing huge amounts of money at her, skipped the country to dodge fraud charges. The money, naturally, dried up.

'Is there a link to your Dad and you becoming a lawyer?'

She snorted. 'God, no. I'd gotten top marks at school, but my head had been so full of horses that I had no idea what I wanted to do if I couldn't ride. I enrolled to study law at University because my boyfriend was in his second year there.'

'Do you know what he's doing now?'

Hermione smirked. 'He dropped out of law school to marry a girl he'd been cheating on me with. She was pregnant. I think he's assistant manager of a Tesco's somewhere.'

Draco stifled a laugh.

* * *

'Hermione?'

She turned over in his arms and rested her clear gaze on him. There was something odd about his voice. 'Yes?'

'After tomorrow, I don't know when I'll be coming back. My roster for the next four weeks doesn't have me scheduled to fly here.'

Her heart clanged, and her eyes lowered. 'Oh,' she whispered.

'I'm on leave next week.'

'Uh-huh,' she said tonelessly. Why should she care?

He put a finger under her chin and gently raised her face. His blue eyes were mesmeric. 'I know this is short notice, but do you think you could take some time off work next week?'

'Why?'

Draco reached for his phone and opened an attachment from his email. He passed the phone to Hermione.

She read the attachment. It was an e-ticket from his airline, made out in her name.

'Only if you want to,' he said quietly.

Hermione swallowed. More time with him. A whole week, if she's lucky. She pointed to tomorrow's outgoing flight. 'Are you the Captain for this flight?'

He nodded.

She lifted her head and kissed him - a slow, lingering kiss.

'I have some time owed,' she said, smiling slowly. 'I'll apply for it online.'

* * *

Eventually they climbed out of bed, dressed and headed to a local market to forage for dinner ingredients.

Back at Hermione's house, they worked companionably together in her kitchen – she prepared dinner, and Draco prepared his grandmother's chocolate mousse, after she insisted that she see for herself that he wasn't talking shit.

He topped up her wine glass and started putting dishes into the dishwasher. Watching him, Hermione was struck by a sudden realisation.

They're good together. Very good.

But what's going to happen, long-term? A long-distance relationship? One relocates to be with the other?

Fuck buddies, whenever he happens to fly in?

Put my life on hold for him, because I have this sinking feeling that I won't be able to be with anyone else?

Drive myself nuts imagining the other women he'll be fucking in all the other countries he flies to?

She couldn't ask him what he wanted from her. If he did this with other women at his different destinations, she didn't want to see the pity in his eyes when she made a fool of herself and showed him her heart.

Stop this! she yelled inside her head. Don't ruin the time you have with him now by sulking.

She drained the wine from her glass, and poured another.

* * *

The chocolate mousse was, in fact, the most delicious dessert she'd ever tasted.

* * *

 **Later**

They'd debated whether to stay the night at Hermione's, or head back to the hotel now and save an early trip in tomorrow. Hermione didn't mind either way.

Draco made a quick call to Theo, who told him that Astoria had flown home, Blaise was out trawling for pussy but he couldn't vouch for the status of his temper, the rest of the crew were fine, the hotel was still standing, Draco didn't have to worry, and just have a fun night, all right?

Draco smiled to himself as he disconnected. He walked over to Hermione, who was standing next to a suitcase and pondering the contents of her wardrobe. He wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her head. She was the perfect height for it.

'You don't mind me staying the night here?'

'After that chocolate mousse, how could I refuse?'

He leaned down and kissed her neck. 'I want you,' he whispered.

She turned in his arms and met his lips.

Packing could wait.

* * *

 **Blaise**

She was blonde.

Had big tits.

Long legs, sultry eyes, and a beautiful smile.

Aside from that, she didn't look like Astoria at all.

Melanie was a Tinder hook-up Blaise had arranged. He couldn't drink because he was flying out tomorrow, so his only outlet for working through his pent-up energy following his anger at Astoria's unutterable stupidity was to have sex. Lots of it. Now.

Melanie did something in banking, he didn't catch what she said and didn't really care. Her eyes lit up when he said he was a pilot, and he knew she'd be up for a shag.

When he kissed her in the bar where they met, he thought about Astoria. Why the fuck did she do what she did?

He pulled back from Melanie, smiling. 'Your place or mine, darling?'

'I'm just two blocks away.'

He took her hand, and let her lead.

* * *

Goddamn, he enjoyed a good, hot, wet pussy. Before he even surged inside her, he'd brought her to orgasm by fucking her sweet, hot cunt hard with his fingers, then his tongue. She screamed as her orgasm shot through her, the muscles of her pussy clamping his fingers with considerable promise. He licked his fingers, smirked, then thrust his tongue into her willing mouth.

Each time he shunted his hips against her body, her breasts wobbled. They were mouth-watering. She wailed in desire when he pulled a nipple into his mouth, and her cunt flooded when he bit down. Gods alive, this bird was gagging for it.

But her face wasn't quite right.

He pulled out and flipped her over. Dragging her to the edge of her bed, he fucked her doggy-style until she came again, her voice hoarse from her cries. He played with the puckered little rosette of her arse, and found – should he be surprised? - that she was up for it.

She reached into her bedside drawer, pulled out some lubricant and tossed it to him.

'Fuck my arse, Blaise,' she gasped, her cunt rippling to his stimulation.

'As my lady pleases,' he smirked.

He lubricated a finger and worked his way inside her arse. She was very accommodating, so he added another. 'Did you have a butt plug in earlier, love?' he smirked.

'I love it in the arse. Do it now! Fuck me, Blaise!' she moaned.

'You're sure?'

'Yes! Fuck it!'

He pulled his cock out of her cunt. It was so wet he didn't really need lubricant, but he slapped some on, just in case. He positioned his cock at the entrance to her arse, and breached her entrance.

She begged him for more, for more, for more.

'You want all of me?' he gritted.

'Yes, God yes! Do it, please Blaise, do it!' Melanie begged.

So he surged into her arse. One hard, clean, stroke.

She threw her head back and screamed, and he nearly pulled out for fear that he'd hurt her. But then he heard her say 'God oh God, oh my fucking God that's so good, your cock feels so fucking big …'

He shrugged, and fucked her arse like it was her cunt. Hard and relentless. Sweat trickled down his chest. God, yes, he needed this.

When she came once more, Blaise watched her whole body convulse. Filthy words spewed from her mouth, and she collapsed onto the bed.

Blaise followed her down, still grinding into her arse. His orgasm was seconds away. His movements became jerky.

To his surprise, she moved away from him and turned around. 'My mouth,' she demanded.

It took just three strokes with his hand, and he ejaculated into her wide-open mouth. Streams of his come landed on her chin and cheeks, but she wiped them clean with her fingers, ravenously licking them after she sucked his cock dry.

Blaise closed his eyes and revelled in the sensation. He felt his tension ebb away as his cock sprayed onto Melanie's face. He couldn't hold back a moan.

When he was done, he felt exhausted.

Empty.

* * *

A little while later, Melanie looked at him with hungry eyes. 'Will you stay?' she asked lightly.

Blaise put on his regretful face. 'I'm sorry, love, but I have to be at the airport early tomorrow morning.'

She may have been disappointed, but she smiled just the same. She put on a dressing gown while he got into his clothes, and walked him to her front door.

They hugged tightly, and slowly kissed. He stepped outside.

'Whatever Astoria is to you – I hope it gets resolved,' said Melanie.

'Pardon?' Blaise wasn't sure he heard correctly.

'When a bloke moans another bird's name the way you did when you came, it usually means there's some shit to work through. Right?'

Blaise smiled sadly. 'Yeah. There's shit, all right.'

She reached forward to kiss him again. 'I hope it works out. You're a lovely bloke, you know.'

Now Blaise felt like a hundred different types of shit. 'You're a lovely woman,' he recovered. 'But... yeah.'

She nodded a little sadly, then shut the door.

* * *

 **Hermione's place**

Draco and Hermione's bodies were slick with sweat. He'd been fighting to possess her for an hour, their limbs tangled in the bed's damp sheets. Pillows lay on the floor, where they'd been flung.

Hermione came, over and over, to his mouth, fingers and cock. Her face was flushed and her curls were damp. Her eyes sparked when she looked at him, demanding more. Her hands clung to the railing of her bed, and she used her legs and hips to draw him in, trap him inside her body, then set him free.

He'd never seen her look so beautiful.

* * *

He lay on the bed, watching her ride his cock in reverse cow-girl. He gripped her hips and pulled her body up and down, back and forth, over his wet, aching, hard erection. She shook his hands off and fucked him at an ever-faster pace, gripping her breast with one hand and rubbing her clit with the other.

She convulsed again over his cock, her entire body trembling as she cried out.

He'd stopped trying to control her orgasms a while ago; she just kept coming, over and over. It was like her internal sex switch was stuck in the 'on' position. She was so sensitised that the slightest breeze over her skin would probably bring her off.

To prove his own point, he traced a path from her perineum up to the rosy entrance of her arse.

'Fuck!' she screamed again, and once more her pussy muscles gripped his cock.

'Hermione,' he muttered, 'have you got' –

She reached into her bedside drawer and tossed him some lube without breaking stride. 'Fuck my arse, Draco,' she begged.

'No.'

She groaned in frustration. 'Why the fuck not?' she panted.

'You're not ready. Even the way you are now, love. I'm not going to hurt you, and no amount of argument will make me change my mind.' He emphasised his words with a slap to her beautiful buttocks.

She gasped, trembling.

He pulled her off his body and hopped off the bed. Pulling her to the edge, he quickly slid his cock back inside her pussy, building up to a steady rhythm with hard, deep thrusts. He applied lube to a finger and brushed the others lightly over her buttocks.

'Safe word, please,' he said.

'Oh, for God's sake! I forgot it once. You'll never let it go, will you?'

Her other buttock received a sharp slap, and her words melted into moans. 'Omigod, my fucking God…'

Another slap. 'Safe word!'

'More!'

Oh, Jesus.

He withdrew from her body, waiting silently for her to settle down and concentrate.

'Hey!' She swung her head around angrily, but her eyes skittered when she saw his expression.

'Fuselage. Okay, Captain?'

He raised an eyebrow at her impertinence but let it slide this time. He motioned for her to turn back around.

Once his cock was back where it should be, he applied lube to the entrance of her arse. He dragged his finger over and around her rosette. 'Ready?' he asked.

She screamed in frustration.

Draco figured she was ready.

'Breathe in, if you're capable,' he instructed, and breached her entrance.

When she breathed out, he slowly pushed his finger further into her arse, imagining it was his cock. He would take her anal virginity at some point, and love every single fucking second of it.

'Oh God, yes yes yes…' moaned Hermione, pushing against him, wanting more, the greedy little minx.

Once he was in, he felt the back-and-forth movement of his cock through the muscle tissue dividing her pussy and rectum. He knew she could feel it, too. 'Good?' he asked.

'Oh, Jesus,' she sobbed.

'Do you want to come?'

'I need more, Draco, please!' She pushed back against him almost violently.

'One more finger, that's it. Don't try to persuade me for more, all right?'

'Yes! Just – please, do it!'

Draco applied more lube to his fingers and repeated the process again, circling the entrance to her arse before slowly pressing in. She shrieked; and he stopped still.

'Tell, me, love.'

She gasped. 'Hurts a bit…'

'Do you want me to stop?'

'No! No. But… could you return to one finger for a bit?'

He did as she asked, moving the digit around a bit inside her.

'Try again please,' she said quietly. He almost refused – the high she'd been on before was winding down. But he tried again, instructing her to breathe in when he entered, and out when he pushed inside.

'Oh, my God,' she whispered, almost in wonder. 'Hell, that's amazing.'

He spread his fingers out a little, and gently thrust in and out. Using her responses as a guide, he slowly built up the pace until he was making fast, but measured, strokes in and out of her arse.

He'd neglected her pussy, making only shallow strokes while concentrating on her arse, but his balls were tight and heavy, and felt practically bruised with the need for him to come. 'I'm gonna fuck both your holes now,' he whispered. 'You know what to say if you want me to stop.'

'Please, Draco,' she sobbed. 'I'm so close…'

Holding on to her hip with his free hand, he sped up his strokes inside her pussy. Bloody hell, this was bliss. His fingers made her cunt even tighter. He was going to blow his load soon. He prayed he could hold on for Hermione to orgasm, but it didn't look like he was capable.

'Hermione,' he grunted in warning. Nearly there…

She frantically rubbed her clitoris with her fingers. 'Omigod, Draco…'

This was getting unbearable. 'Shit. Hermione…'

The walls of her cunt fluttered.

Damn it.

He cried out her name as his orgasm shot through him, almost robbing him of breath. It felt like cell of his body was galvanised by the forceful release. He felt Hermione's pussy grip his cock, milking him.

He staggered a little as he withdrew from her pussy and arse, breathing hard. He shook his head to clear it. He knew he should go to the bathroom to wash, but the mattress proved too tempting.

He sank onto it face-first, next to Hermione, who was also lying in the same position.

'Wow,' was his last coherent thought.

* * *

 **A/N: Okay! Some questions answered; new questions asked! Everyone's returning home, and Hermione's coming along, too. Somehow, I feel that Astoria won't be best pleased. Speaking of Astoria: oh, Blaise. You need a hug, honey.**

 **See you at chapter 7, everyone x**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: 'Come fly with me, we'll fly, we'll fly away…'***

* * *

 **Morning, Hermione's house**

Draco and Hermione had to get up at an indecent hour of the morning to head back to the hotel so he could collect his things before heading to the airport. Used to working all hours of the day and night, Draco's internal clock woke him shortly before the programmed alarms on their phones did.

He watched Hermione sleep next to him, her features shadowed in the grey pre-dawn light. He carefully reached for his phone and brought up the pictures he took yesterday, feeling himself react as he slowly scrolled through them.

They were a pale impression compared to the real thing, sleeping nude on her stomach, clutching her pillow close to her breasts – a position he'd never seen before until a few nights ago.

It made him smile.

He was hard again. No surprises there; it was morning. But he was hard _and_ aroused. A gentleman would let his lady sleep and take care of himself in the bathroom. But – he checked his phone – there were only ten minutes to go before the alarms went off, anyway.

However, he had a rule. The lady had to be awake.

He'd briefly try to see if she woke; otherwise it was him and his hand in the bathroom.

He gently brushed the hair from her face and kissed her forehead. She sighed, and her eyes briefly opened – then closed again.

'Good morning,' he whispered into her ear.

'Nghrrrrt,' she replied.

He moved a little closer, his erection brushing against her thigh.

She sighed again, and spread her legs a little apart, still clinging to her pillow.

Draco wasn't entirely convinced she was awake. He gently brushed a finger between her legs, careful not to enter her – and let out a quiet groan when he discovered how wet she was.

She lifted her hips up, eyes still closed.

Draco was frustratingly confused – was she asleep, or wasn't she?

'I want to make love to you, sweetheart,' he whispered by her ear. 'But you need you to tell me you're awake. Or I'll leave you alone.'

'…awake,' Hermione mumbled.

Not good enough. 'I'm sorry, love.' He drew away, heading regretfully to the side of the bed.

'Fuck's sake, Draco, I'm awake!' she said irritably, glaring at him with one eye open. 'Now get back here.'

With a grin and a shake of his head, he did as she demanded.

* * *

Every time. The sensation was unbelievable.

Sinking into her wet, incredibly tight pussy for the first time always made his breath leave his body and his eyes roll back in his head. It felt exquisite. She felt exquisite.

She was exquisite.

Hermione had used up her words for that hour of the morning, but she moaned in bliss as his large cock sheathed itself deep inside her. No man had ever felt like this inside her before. Spreading her, filling her, stretching her enough to make every tiny move he made resonate through her.

Draco leaned over her, resting on his forearms. He made shallow thrusts into her pussy that she met by raising her hips and pushing back against him.

They moved together, enjoying the intimacy of their closeness. Then Hermione's light moans grew more urgent, and Draco's cock reacted to the extra wetness in her pussy.

He grasped her hips and pulled her gently up to her knees. He withdrew his cock most of the way out, muttering an oath when he saw how it glistened.

Surging back into her, he built up the pace until his flesh slapped against hers and she was begging him.

'What do you want, pet?' he gritted, not letting the fast pace diminish.

'I - I want to come – please, Draco, please' – her voice cut off and he felt the delicious contractions of her cunt flutter around his cock.

'You're so beautiful when you come,' he whispered, bringing a hand around and pressing his fingers to her clit.

He had her sobbing. Anything she tried to say was unintelligible. Yet she was still holding off. She was as close to orgasm as she could ever be.

I could never get tired of being with her, he thought. That realisation sent a pulse through him that squeezed his balls so tight it was like he grabbed them.

'Come for me, love,' he whispered.

Her pussy gripped him, and his groans mixed with hers while his sperm pulsed from his cock into her body.

He dropped his head down alongside Hermione's, breathing hard, ghosting kisses on her shoulder.

Then their alarms went off, damn it all to hell.

* * *

 **Hotel**

Draco zipped up his bag and looked around his hotel room. 'I think that's everything,' he said. He checked his watch. 'We've got some time before the shuttle arrives; want to grab some breakfast?'

No response.

Puzzled, he looked up. Dressed in a khaki knit maxi skirt, cute white t-shirt, denim jacket and khaki snood scarf, Hermione stood stock-still and stared at him.

'Hermione?'

She blinked, but she still looked like she was moving underwater. 'Your uniform,' she whispered.

Startled, he looked himself over. 'What? Is something wrong?'

'No,' she replied. 'I just have this almost overwhelming urge to unzip your fly and suck your cock.'

Draco smirked and sauntered over. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he bent down to her ear and whispered 'Hold that thought.'

She blushed.

* * *

They left their bags with the hotel's concierge and headed to the restaurant. A large contingent of the crew were leaving as they walked in. They cheerfully greeted Draco and gave Hermione curious looks.

They loaded up their plates at the buffet and looked around for somewhere to sit. 'Some of my crew are dawdling,' Draco noted, nodding at an occupied table in one of the corners.

He turned to Hermione. 'It's up to you. If we sit with them, they'll give us both grief. If we don't sit with them, they'll give me a hell of a lot more grief later on.'

Hermione looked at the bircher muesli she was holding. 'You don't mind introducing me?' she asked, her voice a little squeaky.

His blue eyes settled on her. 'Not at all.'

Omigod, went her mind.

'Let's see what they're capable of,' she suggested.

He smiled.

* * *

'I hope you slackers already have your bags stored with the concierge,' Draco said as he approached the crew's table.

'Hey! It's Captain MIA!' cheered Pansy, looking up from spreading honey on some gluten-free toast. 'We missed you, baby,' she joked, blowing him a kiss. Then she saw Hermione standing within earshot of the conversation and put on her professional smile. 'Oops! Didn't see you there, madam.'

Everyone else at the table (except Blaise) sat a little straighter in their chairs and tidied up their table manners. When the uniform was on, they were public property, even if the cabin crew didn't get paid until they boarded the plane.

'Everyone, I'd like you to meet Hermione,' Draco said, indicating her with his elbow since his hands were full of plates. He nodded at the various people at the table. 'This is Pansy and Marcus, part of our cabin crew. Theo's our Flight Services Manager, and I'm sure you remember Blaise, our First Officer.'

Her cheeks pink from their greetings and open scrutiny, Hermione said 'Hi' to them all, then looked for a place to sit.

'Here, love, there's a spot next to me,' said Blaise.

Hermione scooted over and sat down gratefully. 'Thanks,' she smiled. 'How are you?'

Blaise raised an eyebrow. 'Is that a general 'how are you' or is that a 'how are you' relating to a specific clusterfuck of a situation?'

'Let's start with a general 'how are you,' and see where we go?' she suggested.

Blaise smiled briefly, and reached for his coffee.

* * *

…'and anyway, I certainly didn't miss you, Cap,' said Marcus cheerfully at the other end of the table. 'With you out of the way, I get to stand a semi-decent chance of scoring a bird.'

'Really?' said Pansy archly. 'How did you go last night?'

Marcus coloured. 'Shut up,' he muttered.

Draco and Theo hooted with laughter.

'It was a Monday!' Marcus protested. 'Slowest day of the week.'

'Didn't stop Blaise from scoring last night,' taunted Theo.

'Yeah, well. When you're pilots, it makes all the difference, doesn't it? Who'd have a flight attendant when there's bona fide flyboys to get off with?' He sighed. 'I'm going to change my occupation on my Tinder profile. I'm sure most women reckon I'm gay and in denial, so they don't bother swiping right.'

Pansy rolled her eyes. 'Sucks to be you, mate.'

Leaving Pansy and Marcus to playfully squabble, Draco lowered his voice and said to Theo 'Is there anything new?'

Theo shrugged. 'The HR manager wants to see you when you get in.'

'Bloody hell,' Draco sighed, chasing his scrambled eggs around the plate. 'I've got Hermione with me.'

'So I see,' smirked Theo.

Draco didn't look up. 'You can wipe that grin off your face,' he murmured.

Theo's smirk got bigger.

Draco relented. 'We're spending the week together. See what happens.'

Theo's eyebrows shot to the ceiling. 'Holy shit,' he whispered, awed.

'Shut up, Nott.'

* * *

Hermione and Blaise were talking quietly, their heads together, when Draco sat opposite them, coffee in hand. 'You two look cosy.'

'We were just working out how to tell you,' said Blaise. 'Now that she's met a far superior specimen' – he indicated himself – 'you're surplus to her requirements. No hard feelings, mate.'

Draco was pleased to see that Blaise had regained his sense of humour, but the shadows under his eyes clearly indicated how much sleep he got last night.

'None at all,' Draco grinned. Then he sighed. 'Listen mate, when we get back' –

'I'll go,' said Hermione, pulling her chair back.

'No, stay,' the men said simultaneously, then stared at each other.

'Hermione's been giving me some off-the-clock advice,' Blaise murmured.

'I can't practice law in your country,' she reminded him, 'but the principles of procedural fairness in employment investigations will be very similar.'

Blaise nodded.

Something shifted inside Draco's chest.

Clearing his throat, he said 'I've been asked to see Inhuman Resources when we land. Which means Hermione will either end up spending time ghosting around the airport or boring herself to death at Head Office's reception.'

'I don't mind. I have an e-reader.'

'Actually, I was hoping Blaise could do me a favour. Another favour,' Draco amended, looking guilty, when Blaise looked pointedly at him.

'The last favour I did for you landed me in the shit.'

'This one won't,' Draco assured him. 'If you don't have any other pressing engagements, I was hoping you could take my car and show Hermione around the city for a bit.'

'Take your car?' Blaise asked, with an eyebrow up.

'Well, how did you get to the airport?'

'Caught the train, like always. Bit hard stashing a travel case on a motorbike.'

'Well, there you go.'

Blaise laughed. 'Mate. It's your car. You never let anyone touch your car.'

'Congratulations, Zabini! You've been upgraded from passenger to pilot.'

'Aww…' Blaise pretended to blush and waved him off.

'Besides,' Draco grinned, 'if the slightest thing happens to my car while you're in charge, I have an impeccable witness.' He nodded at Hermione.

She snorted. 'Leave me out of this.'

'Well, let me think…' Blaise scratched his chin with exaggeration. 'Doing my laundry, buying food and recharging the bike's battery versus showing a beautiful woman around the city. Hmm…' He pulled all sorts of faces while pretending to think that soon had Hermione laughing.

'Meet you at Baggage Claim, love,' he winked, and held out his hand to Draco for the car keys.

* * *

 **On board**

They were up in the air, and Hermione had made herself comfortable in her seat next to the window. Business Class was full, Draco said, so he hoped she didn't mind that he got her a seat in Premium Economy.

Was he fucking kidding?

Every other time she flew in Cattle Class, she was always shoe-horned between screaming babies and drunk men who couldn't keep their hands to themselves. Draco looked so worried though, that she kissed him on the cheek and said she'll do her best to adapt.

The only seat next to her was spare, so she could stretch out sideways as well as lengthways. Nirvana! She'd never had so much room on a plane before. There were even gaps of space around her that she couldn't fill up.

She'd raised her leg rest, wrapped a blanket around her legs and was reading the e-book that she'd propped on her knees when a tray containing flutes of champagne hoved into view.

'Would you care for some bubbles, madam?' a plummy voice asked. Hermione looked up. It was Pansy, who winked at her.

'Thanks, Pansy!' She smiled and took one.

'I've got to get rid of this lot,' Pansy whispered, 'but I'm coming back. We're all _dying_ to know how you tamed Captain 'guaranteed good time' Malfoy! Toodle-oo!' She finger-waved at Hermione and went to the next passenger.

Hermione's eyes went wide. Draco Malfoy, tamed?

* * *

Pansy came back, but she couldn't sit down with Hermione in full view of everyone else, even if she was on her break, so Hermione followed her to the end of the plane. Blithely ignoring the sign that clearly stated only airline personnel were to proceed past this point, Pansy waved her up what must be the tiniest stairs in the world to the cabin crew rest area.

Inside the narrow, windowless space were half a dozen single, compartmentalised bunks with curtains for privacy. God, thought Hermione, wide-eyed as she followed Pansy through. And people think being a flight attendant is one of the most glamourous jobs in the world! Obviously one of the job's selection criteria is not to be claustrophobic.

'Not much space, is there?' said Pansy gloomily, sitting down on a bunk and patting the space next to her for Hermione to sit. 'Still, it makes for a tight-knit team – absolutely no room for any secrets, right, Zoe?' She called out to another crew member, a svelte ice-cool blonde who was re-applying her make-up and wiggling her bare toes.

'Hell no, girl!' Zoe cackled and lowered her make-up mirror. 'Who've we got here, then?'

'This,' said Pansy proudly, 'is Hermione. _She's_ the one I was telling you about.'

Zoe's mouth fell open. 'You're bloody joking! And here I was thinking you were just being a lying bitch out to wind us all up!'

'I know! You said that to my face!'

'S'trewth!' Zoe hopped off her bunk and hobbled forward, grimacing. 'New shoes,' she said to Hermione apologetically. 'That'll teach me not to break them in before wearing them for work.'

She plonked herself down on the opposite bunk. 'Zoe,' she smiled, sticking her hand out for Hermione to shake. 'Are you seriously going out with Draco Malfoy?'

Being a lawyer, accurate wording was important to her, so she didn't quite know how to answer the question. 'Well, um…'

'He spent the night at her place last night,' Pansy said helpfully, ' _and_ she's coming over to stay with him while he's on leave for the week.'

'Get the fuck out!' said Zoe, impressed.

'I also spent two nights with him at the hotel,' added Hermione.

'Get the fuck out!' said both ladies together.

'It's rare for Draco to spend more than one or two nights with someone,' explained Zoe. 'And you've spent three nights with him! On a stopover, no less! And you're going to spend, what, another six? At his house?'

'Yeah,' said Hermione, starting to feel a little weird.

Zoe shook her head in wonder. 'If I didn't hear it with my own ears, I'd never have believed it,' she said to Pansy.

'I know, right?'

'I don't know whether to be thrilled for him, or sad that he's off the market,' Zoe continued, looking momentarily glum.

'It's a bit early to say he's off the market, isn't it?' Hermione protested.

Pansy and Zoe exchanged looks.

'Anyway,' continued Pansy. 'What's your secret? We're dying to know!'

'I have no idea! Um, we just seem to click, in bed, anyway. We're still getting to know each other out of bed.'

Pansy and Zoe's meticulously-groomed eyebrows shot up.

'Are you a sub?' straight-talking Pansy asked curiously.

'No!' said Hermione hastily. 'I mean, not in BDSM sense, God no. I just… I just like being controlled.' She blushed.

'Ah!' the two ladies said sagely, heads nodding.

'That makes sense,' added Zoe.

'Definitely,' agreed Pansy. 'I mean, sex with Draco was amazing, but I'm not submissive by a long shot, and I bet you're not either, Zoe.'

She snorted.

'Imagine it. When he was with us, he was keeping something back...'

Zoe fanned herself. 'Oh, dear God. I don't think I can imagine him being better in bed if I tried. The thought would make my knickers melt, were I wearing any.'

Hermione's eyes were wide. 'You've slept with him?' she asked Pansy.

'Sure. You don't mind, do you? It was a while ago.'

'Not at all,' Hermione replied. 'Zoe?'

'Oh, yeah,' she replied dreamily.

Hermione grinned. 'In that case, ladies, I have some questions for you.'

* * *

On the flight deck, Draco glanced again at his unusually quiet colleague. With every hour that passed, Blaise became more and more grim. Draco couldn't blame him. He'd rather gouge out his eyeballs with a blunt and rusty teaspoon than face a Head Office disciplinary investigation.

It was time for Draco's break. And he needed to ask Blaise for yet another favour. Which made him feel really, really bad.

'Uh, Blaise' –

'Just go,' Blaise said quietly. 'I'll be fine.'

Draco pulled off his tie and grabbed his sweater. Shrugging it on, he ventured 'Um, I might be a little late back…'

This time, Blaise smiled a genuine smile. 'Get going, you randy old pervert.'

Draco climbed out of his seat. 'You're a godsend, mate. But less of the 'old,' all right?' He patted Blaise on the shoulder and opened the flight deck door.

Pilots on breaks preferred to walk through the plane incognito. Some passengers panicked when they saw a pilot meandering up and down the cabin, even though there were two other pilots plus auto-pilot on the flight deck, all of whom were capable of keeping the plane up in the air. Other passengers wanted to waylay them and either ask endless questions about planes and flying, or complain about this, that and a hundred other things.

So Draco left his jacket, hat and tie on the flight deck, and wore a lightweight v-neck sweater that covered his shirt's epaulettes. He looked like an ordinary businessman stretching his legs – except to other airline staff, of course, who could spot a pilot 'in disguise' a mile off.

Ignoring the knowing grins of a couple of cabin crew staff, he made his way through Business Class and into Premium Economy.

'Excuse me, madam. Is this seat taken?'

Hermione had returned to her seat after an enlightening conversation with Pansy and Zoe, and was back into her book. Distracted, she looked up.

'Wha-? Oh! Hi!' Blushing, she crammed her stuff back into her bag and kicked it under the seat in front of her.

Draco sat down next to her, grinning. 'Good book?'

'The best,' she smiled. Then she winked. 'Takes my mind off flying. I'm a nervous flyer.'

'Are you?' he said with exaggerated concern. 'Well, as it happens, I know a few techniques that I guarantee will distract you from flying.'

'Oh, you do?' Hermione looked fascinated.

'Oh, yes. I'm very experienced.'

I know you are, she chortled to herself. 'Do tell.'

'Well...' he raised the arm rest that divided the two seats, elevated his seat rest and moved closer to her. 'Firstly, it's important to stay warm,' he said, draping half of her blanket across his legs, up to his hips. 'With your body temperature within the optimum range, relaxation is easier to achieve.'

'Sounds reasonable,' she replied, putting her e-book away and giving him her full attention.

She looked around the small Premium Economy cabin. Not all the seats were occupied, and of the ones that were, the passengers were engrossed in watching a film on their monitor or nodding to music. Still, there was a rather large contingent of butterflies dancing the rhumba in her tummy at the thought of what might happen next.

Sex against a window was one thing. Sex within eye- and earshot of other passengers was a whole other ball game.

She saw Pansy out of the corner of her eye, who, as the designated attendant for Hermione's section, was required to keep an eye on the goings-on that happened in her orbit. She winked, gave Hermione a discreet thumbs-up.

Hermione tried not to laugh. Draco followed Hermione's gaze, and caught Pansy's pert derriere heading back to the galley.

'I've seen the cabin crew rest area,' Hermione said with a sly smile.

'Oh, you have? You do realise that as the Captain of this flight, I could have both you and Ms Parkinson heavily censured for breaching security rules.' Under the blanket, his long, warm fingers found her bare thigh, and inched upwards, agonisingly slowly.

'Please excuse me for interrupting, sir, madam.'

It was Pansy again, as professional as always but with a wicked gleam in her eye. To Hermione, she continued 'I'm sorry it took longer than expected, but I found some extra tissues for your head cold.' She tapped the side of her nose and passed Hermione a sealed packet of tissues. Then she turned to Draco. 'You should be careful, sir, not to catch madam's cold.'

Hermione tried hard not to laugh, and was mostly successful. 'Thanks Pansy, you're a lifesaver!' She turned to Draco. 'The service on this flight is just amazing, don't you think?'

Draco's jaw was set, but Hermione was pretty sure it was because he was trying not to laugh, too. 'I've never seen anything like it,' he replied, his eyes flashing blue.

Pansy dimpled prettily. 'Well! I'll leave you two alone, then.'

She skedaddled before Draco forgot where he was and tried to throttle her.

'Oh, goodness, I've forgotten where we were up to,' sighed Hermione. 'Can you refresh me?'

'I believe I was telling you it was within my remit to punish you for breaching rules.' Draco's fingers crept under the gathered material of her skirt and ghosted to her pelvis – to discover that she wasn't wearing any panties.

He exhaled, and crossed his left knee over his right leg under the blanket, screening his erection from the rest of the cabin. 'Jesus,' he said under his breath, inching his hand closer and closer to her core.

Hermione parted her legs and reclined in her seat. 'Is everything okay?' she asked with wide-eyed mock concern.

His eyes glittered. 'Everything is a hell of a lot better than okay.'

Her small hand rested on his crotch, brushing over the bulge. 'How would you punish me, Captain?' she asked, cupping her fingers over his clothed erection and squeezing briefly.

He looked up to the ceiling and smiled sardonically, half his brain going crazy at the sensation of his cock being gripped and released by the beautiful woman next to him. 'You deserve to be put over my knees, your skirt folded back to reveal your luscious, delectable arse, and spanked until I think you've had enough.'

Hermione's breath skittered – both at his words, and also because his fingers were delicately massaging her clitoris. She had a feeling that the wetness from her pussy may be following gravity and inching towards her seat. She swallowed. 'How would you know when I've had enough, sir?'

Sir.

With just one three-letter word, she could make him as hard as stone in a nanosecond. She should be rewarded. Two of his fingers snaked down to her entrance, and he smiled when he encountered the wetness there.

He looked straight into her eyes. In a low voice, he said 'When your arse is bright pink, the juice from your cunt is trickling down your thighs, and you're begging me, with everything you have, to fuck you.'

With that, he speared two fingers inside her.

Hermione's cheeks flushed with the effort not to cry out. She shifted in her seat, and her thighs began to tremble.

He loved how reactive she was. He was fascinated by it.

Still trying to get herself under control, she grasped the zip of Draco's fly and started to draw it down.

He stopped her. 'Here is just for you,' he whispered.

She nodded shakily. 'Please make it quick.'

He slowly withdrew his fingers (Hermione bit down on a disappointed moan) and brought his hand out from under the blanket. He wrapped that arm around her shoulders and drew her close to him, dropping a kiss lightly on her lips. She snuggled against his shoulder while his other, still-hidden arm, had better access to her pussy.

He brushed his fingers lightly up and down the inside of each thigh.

She looked out of the window, swallowing each moan as it rose to her throat.

He entered her body with agonising slowness, exploring the contours of her cunt through his fingers. Fingertips have a high number of nerve endings, more than a penis. With his fingers, he could visualise what they were touching.

Under the blanket, Hermione gripped anything she could reach. She nestled her head against Draco's neck. 'Please…'

Much as he would have loved to finger-fuck her until she gushed over him (and airline property), the rough movements would give them away. So he applied his thumb to her clitoris and inserted a third finger into her already tight channel. Then he moved them in and out.

A tiny portion of Hermione's brain thought 'I can't believe I'm even doing this!' but the rest of it didn't care. She came on his fingers while she gritted her teeth and hid her head from view.

It was fantastic, and yet at the same time, unsatisfactory. As he drew his wet fingers out of her, she knew she wanted a hell of a lot more, and really bloody soon. Her heart was racing, and every nerve in her body was screaming out to be fucked.

She took a couple of tissues from the pack Pansy thoughtfully provided, and passed the rest to Draco.

When they looked innocent again (aside from his raging erection and her flushed face), he stood up and held out his hand.

'Come with me,' he smiled.

Slowly, she stood up (her thighs still trembled) and followed him past the other (hopefully oblivious) Premium Economy passengers and through Business Class.

* * *

 **A/N: *Van Heusen, Jimmy., Cahn, Sammy. 'Come Fly with Me.'** _ **Come Fly with Me.**_ **© Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Peermusic Publishing, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.**

 **Where could Draco be taking Hermione? And, more importantly, what will he do to her? Please stay tuned!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Thanks again for your support, everyone! Thanks also to my anonymous airline personnel, who were very handy with plane-related things in this chapter.**

* * *

Draco took Hermione forward, past the Business/First Class passengers and smirking flight attendants. Having a word with Theo about their knowing smiles was pointless, because Theo was one of the crew they passed, and his knowing smile was the smirkiest of all.

At the access door to the flight crew rest area, Draco entered the code, and ushered Hermione through. She gathered up the folds of her long skirt in one hand so she could safely ascend another set of tiny stairs.

She was halfway up when Draco's hands stilled her hips. 'Bend over,' he growled.

She stretched her arms and chest across the rest area floor. Deftly, Draco flung her skirt over her hips, spread her buttocks with his hands and plunged his tongue into her pussy, soaking wet with her come.

Hermione moaned wildly before stifling her mouth with her hand.

'It's okay, no-one should be able to hear you,' Draco muttered before drawing her folds in between his lips.

Tasting her salty-sweet juices, he worked his tongue around her cunt, feasting on her clitoris before dragging his wet tongue across her flesh and up to her arse.

God yes - do it, make me come! she begged silently.

Draco tongued the rim of her arse, sinking two fingers into her pussy at the same time. His tongue and fingers lashed her body with speed.

Her orgasm took her by surprise. One moment, it was building steadily; but then it skipped a few stages and went straight to mind-blowing bliss. Draco hummed in approval while she cried out, returning to the source to drink from her again.

He didn't even let her get her breath back when he slapped her arse and ordered her into the rest area.

She scuttled in on her hands and knees, pulling herself up by one of the two rest seats – making sure she didn't touch anything that looked important.

Much taller Draco had to hunch over to move around the small cabin.

'Take your clothes off,' he ordered, his eyes glinting.

She was naked in four seconds, her clothing strewn across one of the seats.

He nodded at the other seat, and she climbed on, jumping a little as the cold leather touched her heated skin.

Draco knelt in front of her and pressed a button that made the back of the chair recline. Suddenly, she found herself staring at the top of the cabin while he pulled her hips forward, spread her legs and buried his face between them once more.

'Your taste is addictive; did you know that?' he muttered many minutes later, when he came up for air. 'I crave it when I'm not with you.'

Desire rippled through her. Everything about him turns me on, she thought hazily.

'You came in the stairwell, didn't you?' he asked suddenly.

She gulped. 'Y-yes, I' –

He looked at her, his eyes dark. 'Did you have permission to come?'

She didn't think it was possible, but she just got wetter. 'No, sir.'

He sighed. 'What am I going to do with you, Ms Granger?'

She knew it was a rhetorical question, but the words tumbled out of her mouth, anyway. 'Anything you want.'

He closed his eyes, as if in pain, but then he reared over her and crushed his mouth to hers. She tasted her body's essence off his lips.

Breathing hard, he pulled back and stripped off his sweater. 'Go to the back,' he said.

Hopping off the seat, she took a couple of steps to the curtained-off rear of the cabin, where two single beds, separated by a screen, sat over the escape hatch. She picked one and clambered on, watching while Draco deftly removed his uniform and slung it on a coat hanger. Her eyes widened when she saw his erection. It looked like it was carved from stone - almost painful-looking.

He stood at the end of the bed Hermione lay on, and beckoned her over. She crawled to him, biting her lip, keeping a wary eye on his cock.

He tilted her chin up, pulling her bottom lip from her teeth with his thumb. 'Take it all,' he gritted.

She swallowed, and looked at his cock, taking it in. Was it just her imagination, or did it just get even bigger?

She flicked her eyes up, and saw steel resolve in his. He wasn't in the mood for negotiation.

She remembered the safe signal and tamped down her nerves. Kneeling on the edge of the bed, she opened her mouth and sank down on his heated, rigid length.

Draco exhaled heavily and gripped the bed's curtain rail. His hips bucked as she fed more of his cock into her mouth, nudging the edge of her throat. She pulled off him with a gasp; slicking it with her saliva by her hand while she collected her breath.

The second time, she managed more of him. She bobbed her head back and forth, not thinking about the half-choking feel of built-up saliva around a massive penis.

'God - so fucking good…' she heard him whisper. Encouraged, she took another breath and aimed for more.

She worked his cock hard, gripping his hips for purchase. Suddenly, he gripped her hair and pulled her off him. She spat his cock out with a gasp and looked up at him, wiping her mouth.

He bobbed down to her level and kissed her hard. 'I need this, baby,' he said against her mouth. He pulled back a little and pinned her with his stare. 'Trust me.'

Her heartrate accelerated, but she nodded.

He stood up again, his erection not in the slightest bit flagging from its brief interruption. She opened her mouth, and this time Draco fed his cock into her, keeping her head still. He moved his hips in small measured thrusts, then built up in force and speed, whispering 'Good girl, sweetheart.'

She was at her limit; the urge to gag and push his cock out was almost on her. Her eyes watered. Her fingers began to curl into the flesh at his hips.

'Just a little more, love,' he gritted – then he fucked her mouth like it was her pussy, holding her head still. 'Fucking hell, yes…' he moaned, lost to the incredible sensation.

Hermione's hand shot up of its own accord and slapped against the wall.

Immediately, he pulled out of her mouth and let her go.

Coughing and gasping for breath, Hermione leaned over the edge of the bed, hoping she wouldn't be sick. Strong, warm arms circled her body from behind, gently rocking her. 'Sorry, love,' he whispered.

She shook her head and held up a hand. It's okay.

Still shy of breath, she looked over her shoulder, and her heart clenched. Concern and guilt was written all over his face. She eased past him and lay down on the bed, spreading her legs and flicking her clitoris between her fingers.

'You sure?' he asked doubtfully, but with some hope tacked on the end.

'Yes,' she mouthed, and raised an arm to him.

He kissed her the moment he slid his cock inside her body, swallowing her moan of bliss.

'Fuck me hard,' she whispered against his jaw.

His body shuddered, and she thought he was going to refuse. But he raised himself up and built up his pace until he was fucking her as hard as he dared, never taking his eyes off her face, until the sensation became too much and he had to close his eyes and grit his teeth to stave off his orgasm.

Even blind, he could tell when Hermione was going to come. Her voice, her hitched breath and the spasmodic fluttering of her cunt were all signs he'd committed to memory without even realising.

But his eyes flew open when she desperately begged 'Draco, please, may I come?'

'God, yes,' he said, leaning down to take her nipple into his mouth with his teeth. Gently, he pulled.

She came so hard she was lost for a voice. The tendons in her neck stood out as her body arched and she threw her head back, but no sound emerged until she gasped for breath again.

Draco moaned harshly as he spilled himself into her beautiful body, his own feeling like it was pulsing in tune with his spasming cock.

Gradually, their breathing slowed. He pulled an errant lock of hair away from her face with a smile. She smiled back.

Suddenly, he remembered the most unimportant thing of all.

'Welcome to the Mile-High Club,' he whispered, kissing her gently.

She laughed, still a little breathless. 'Bloody hell,' was all she could think of to say.

* * *

Decently attired once more, Draco entered the flight deck and sunk into his seat with a sigh.

'That good, then?' smirked Blaise.

'Intense,' he said thoughtfully. And that was all Blaise could get out of him.

* * *

When the plane landed, Hermione stayed in her seat and let the other passengers disembark through the exit behind her. Eventually Blaise headed through the cabin, looking sinfully good in his uniform. He grinned and threw her a wink as he passed, laughing when her cheeks turned pink.

Draco wasn't far behind, so she picked up her bag and joined him in the aisle. He dropped a kiss on her lips. 'Welcome to my country,' he smiled.

Her tummy fluttered.

Courteously, he let her walk ahead of him through the cabin to the exit.

When they got to the galley, they were boisterously greeted by nearly all the full complement of crew, who were grinning from ear to ear and clapping. Pansy had a very effective wolf-whistle.

Hermione's mouth fell open.

'Congratulations, Ms Granger!' Blaise announced, tipping his hat to her. 'Due to your recent admission to a certain club with a certain Captain, that makes you officially one of the family!'

Blushing furiously, she gaped at them before deciding if she couldn't beat them, she might as well join them. She started laughing. 'You guys are absolute bastards!'

Draco, meanwhile, shook his head in mock sorrow. 'Every single one of you is going to pay,' he threatened. 'Right when you least expect it.'

Cheerfully, they left the plane.

* * *

The flight and cabin crew had their own Customs line, so Hermione fell behind while standing in line with the other passengers. By the time she reached Baggage Claim, Draco and Blaise were there, standing next to their cases, along with her own.

The three of them headed to Arrivals, where they would part ways. Draco was taking the shuttle to his airline's Head Office, and Blaise and Hermione were headed for the staff car park.

'You won't do anything stupid in it, right?' Draco asked for the third time since Hermione got to Baggage Claim.

Blaise rolled his eyes theatrically. 'No, for God's sake! If I didn't know better, I'd say you're having second thoughts.'

Certainly looked like it, she thought, going by Draco's face. She put her hand on his arm. 'I'll keep him in line,' she promised.

Relief spread across his face. 'Thanks, love.'

Blaise crossed his arms and snorted. 'Oh, very nice.'

Draco sighed, but not because of the car. Well, maybe a little bit because of the car. Most of the sigh was for the lack of enthusiasm he was feeling about his upcoming meeting with Human Resources.

Blaise knew, and his mood sobered. 'Thanks, mate,' he said quietly.

Draco nodded, and they quickly bumped fists.

Aww, thought Hermione, feeling fluttery.

Draco took her hand and gently kissed her lips. 'See you in a bit,' he promised.

She squeezed his hand for support. 'Good luck.'

They went their separate ways.

* * *

Astoria wended her way through the hordes of people filing out of Arrivals. She was late for her shift at her airline's Premium check-in, but she honestly couldn't give a rat's furry arse. The wankers at Human Resources had assigned her to ground duties in an effort to keep her and Blaise apart while the situation 'was looked into.'

She ground her teeth. Why can't Blaise bloody well do check-in, then?

She sighed. It was so unfair.

With Blaise briefly in her mind, she thought she was imagining things when she saw a tall, dark, and let's face it, incredibly handsome pilot chatting with a tall, blonde and drop-dead gorgeous pilot some distance away. Her heart leapt into her throat.

It's them.

She couldn't face him right now. Them. She couldn't face _them_ right now.

But who is the woman standing with…?

Draco kissed the woman; then she walked off with Blaise.

The blood drained from Astoria's face. It's _her._ Her from Draco's room. With the - the name, and the _hair._

What the absolute hell?

Shaking, she stormed into the nearest Ladies' and went into a stall. She had to calm down. She had to calm down.

Reading the dreary notices on the back of the toilet doors never failed to make her feel soporific.

* * *

Hermione's eyebrows raised at the vehicle that beeped when Blaise pressed the alarm's disarm button. 'You know, I'm not surprised.'

Blaise grinned. 'The man has a need for speed.'

'Not exactly a family saloon, is it?' she teased.

He laughed. 'I live for the day when he has to drive around in one of those.'

Hermione smiled and shook her head. Draco owned a Porsche 911 Carrera 4 in a sexy dark metallic blue. What sort of man leaves this class of car abandoned in a car park and flies out of the country for days on end?

'Hand me your case, sweetheart,' Blaise suggested. 'Getting luggage into this tin can is a bit like playing Tetris. Luckily, I like playing Tetris.'

She relinquished her case and carefully climbed into the passenger's seat, running her hand over the sleek dashboard with awe.

Blaise successfully solved the 'Where to Store the Luggage' challenge, hooked his jacket around the back of the driver's seat and hopped in, adjusting it to accommodate his longer legs.

He threw his hat into the back and turned to Hermione. 'Well, madam?' he grinned. 'Any special requests?'

'Um… is there anywhere we can go where we can let this little beast rip?' She smiled slyly.

'Ooh, girl!' Blaise laughed rubbed his hands together. 'You're a woman after my own heart.' He switched on the ignition, and the car immediately growled. 'If Draco wasn't completely besotted with you, I'd make a play for you myself.'

Hermione looked at him carefully. 'Why do you say he's besotted with me?' she asked eventually.

Blaise pulled out of the car park and headed to the exit. 'Well, he must be. I've never seen him this way before.'

'How long have you known him?'

Blaise nodded to the parking attendant, and they headed onto the road. 'Oh, about ten years?'

Wow. Ten years.

She supposed it wasn't fair to grill Blaise about her whatever-it-is she's got with Draco. She should go straight to the horse's mouth.

She inspected the car's interior in between looking out of the window while Blaise hit the motorway. Things just weren't quite adding up. 'How much do these cars cost, roughly?' she asked.

Blaise glanced at her. Eyes hidden behind her sunglasses, he couldn't register much of her expression. He thought. 'Roughly speaking, between ninety and one hundred and ten thousand? For a new car. Depending on the accessories.'

She smiled and shook her head. 'Should I assume that airline pilots are grossly overpaid?'

'Hey!' he said, mock-indignantly. 'I earn every penny of my massively exorbitant salary.'

They joked around until Blaise pulled into a subdivision under construction. The roads had been laid and property boundaries marked out, but the house-building hadn't yet commenced.

He pulled up to a length of straight, virgin road and let the car idle. 'You want a go?' he grinned.

Oh my God, no! was Hermione's first reaction. But then she thought: why the hell not? She bit her lip to hide her excitement. 'You're on!' she said, and, slipping out of her seat belt, hopped out of the car and swapped seats with Blaise.

Nervous and excited, she adjusted the driver's seat as far forward as she could, making Blaise snort with laughter. 'You sure you can see over the dash, love?' he teased.

She gave him the finger and put the Porsche into gear.

She started off slowly, to get a feel for how the car responded, ignoring Blaise's comments such as 'Come on! My old Nana can walk faster than this!'

Finally, she was ready – to floor it.

* * *

'Woo-hoo! Oh, my God, what a rush!' Hermione shouted as she sprang out of the idling car's driver's seat and skipped towards a laughing Blaise, who'd exited from the other side.

'Underneath this lawyer's calm exterior beats the heart of a frustrated racer, eh? Bloody well done, girl!'

He held out his arms and she jumped into them, holding him tight. Using her momentum, he whirled her around and around while she laughed and flung her arms into the air.

He slowed to a stop and gently let her down. A little dizzy, Hermione stumbled forward. She ended up flush against his body, his tie tickling her nose.

'Woah there, little lawyer,' Blaise said lightly, putting a hand on her shoulder to steady her.

She stilled, and her cheeks - the traitorous things - turned pink. Not only was she as close to him as she could possibly get while still clothed – and boy, he smelled nice - she also clearly felt his erection through his trousers.

An impressive one, at that.

A tiny part of Hermione's brain wondered how many other things Blaise had in common with Draco. She shut that train of thought down before she got carried away.

She carefully stepped back, and summoning her courage, looked up at him.

His wry, crooked half-smile confirmed that he knew why she was blushing.

'Sorry,' they said sheepishly at the same time.

She looked away. What's the correct thing to say after acknowledging that you've rubbed up against an intimate part of someone else's body, when you shouldn't have?

'I was mostly joking when I said I'd make a play for you.' Blaise's voice was quiet, his half-smile still in place.

She looked at him, her lips parting slightly.

'I can see why Draco's in' – he cleared his throat – 'why he's besotted. There's something about you...'

Hermione put her hands to her cheeks.

He cleared his throat again. 'But' – he said cheerfully – 'he saw you first, and you're not mine to take from him.' He put his hands in his pockets, and his dark eyes settled on hers. 'I hope we can be friends, though.'

She gave him a beautiful smile. 'Of course, Blaise,' she said. She impulsively took a step forward before stopping. 'Um, is it okay if I hug you?'

He laughed. ''Course, sweetheart. Just mind the assets.'

They shared a hug, then he gently clasped the back of her head (differently to the way Draco did earlier) and gently kissed her forehead.

It made her feel weepy inside.

But she stepped back, and shook her finger at him. 'It's your turn, Lewis Hamilton!' she sang out.

Blaise's eyes shone with mischief. 'Prepare to have your mind blown!'

* * *

Draco swept into the airline's Head Office reception, flanked by two ageing former flight attendants who just didn't know when to quit. In response to their greetings and approving eyebrows, he said good morning, and that he had an appointment with the HR Manager on the hour.

'Please take a seat, Mr Malfoy, and I'll let him know you're here. Would you care for some coffee?'

He could murder a bathtub-full. 'Please,' he said gratefully, and wandered over to the sofas. He paused, and turned around. 'Him?'

'Yes,' said the receptionist who stayed behind while the other fetched the coffee. 'He started last week. He seems…' she pondered. 'Decent.'

We'll see, he thought, as he plopped down on a sofa and flicked through a copy of the airline's glossy and overhyped Annual Report.

* * *

'Draco Malfoy?' a male voice asked.

Draco looked up and saw a trim man around his own age with thick, dark messy hair and round, wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. He wore black trousers and a pale green shirt without a tie. There looked to be some kind of a light stain on his shoulder. He looked exhausted, but his smile was genuine and his handshake was warm. 'Harry Potter. I'm the new HR Manager. Thanks for coming over.'

'Not at all,' Draco murmured. He followed Harry through the rabbit warren of open-plan desks, whiteboards and decaying pot plants until they reached a swipe-card access door. Harry patted his pockets vaguely before remembering he had the card slung around his neck on a lanyard, and opened the door.

Meanwhile, Draco tried not to make eye contact with any of the female workers, but he could feel their collective stare boring into him. He presumed he'd slept with at least one, probably more, of them at some point.

Also, he wanted to avoid the Communications Department. They'd been hassling him to feature in some commercials for the airline but he kept turning them down. Unfortunately, he was running out of excuses.

Eventually, Harry rediscovered his office ('It takes me a few days to find my way around a new workplace – they all look the same') and ushered Draco through, closing the door, to the disappointment of the staff casually hanging around outside.

Harry flung himself into a chair at the small meeting table, and invited Draco to pick a seat. He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

'Sorry,' he said sheepishly when he caught Draco watching him. 'New baby. It's utter bedlam at home. I come here to get some rest.'

Draco smiled. 'I guess that explains the stain on your shoulder.'

'Hmm?' Harry checked out one shoulder, then the other. 'Oh, blast! I thought I got him in time.' Then he shrugged. 'The joys of parenthood,' he said philosophically. 'Have you been blessed with it yet?'

This time Draco laughed. 'No. Not yet,' he amended, wondering what made him say that.

Harry drew a depressingly thick file towards him and looked sadly at it. 'Well, I'm sure you have better places to be, so we'll start right away, if you don't mind. I have a copy of the statements you've taken from Ms Greengrass and Mr Zabini – thanks for arranging those, by the way – but I'd like to have a talk with you directly, to make sure I have an appropriate grasp of the situation.'

'Go ahead,' said Draco. 'Not sure how much help I'll be, though.'

* * *

Both of them were overcome by a desperate need for coffee twenty minutes in, so Harry stuck his head out the door and asked the first person walking by to bring some. Unfortunately, it was delivered by a mousy young lady with whom Draco spent a forgettable night with when he was last roped in to conduct training at Head Office.

Her hands trembled when she put the tray of coffee down, and Draco saw tears pooling in her eyes when she stared at him. He smiled kindly, said hello, and wished he could bury himself six feet deep.

I have to stop living like this, he thought.

Luckily, Harry didn't notice, and the girl escaped before her tears did.

* * *

Eventually, Harry closed the file and leaned back in his chair. 'As one of the few staff at this airline who actually seem to know how to conduct a fair and thorough employment investigation, I'll assume you understand the importance of worker privacy and confidentiality.'

A Human Resources Manager who's concerned about confidentiality? wondered Draco, amazed. What the hell did this airline do to snare him? 'Yes, of course,' he replied.

Harry nodded. 'Based on the information we have, it's essentially one person's word against the other. Unless further information comes to light that tips the balance, these investigations usually end in a messy Mexican stand-off, where everyone loses.'

Draco nodded. Fuck. What an outcome for Blaise.

'The thing is,' Harry continued, 'I have some further information. It's just of no use. I'd be interested in your opinion on it though, considering your involvement in the process.'

Draco nodded. Inside, his innards were churning.

'I came to this job from another airline,' Harry said. 'By coincidence, it was the same airline that Ms Greengrass worked at before she came here.'

Draco's eyebrows popped.

'She's come to my attention before.'

Draco nodded encouragingly.

'I received two complaints from male staff, both pilots. They said – independently of each other – that she'd been acting inappropriately towards them.'

Draco slouched back in his seat and stared at the fly-spotted ceiling and harsh fluorescents. 'Hell,' he muttered.

'She denied the allegations,' Harry continued. 'But it didn't look good, having two separate complaints against her. In the end, the staff making up the flight rosters got crossed eyes from making sure she wasn't rostered on their flights. This is a course of action we can consider here, but it's not the best outcome.

'Of her own volition, Ms Greengrass resigned and started working for this airline.' Harry sighed. 'And now I find her as the main party in another distressing situation.'

'I take it you can't use the information from the other airline because of privacy issues.'

'Correct,' said Harry carefully. 'The best outcome is that whichever party is lying, they come forward and own up. Or, some other information comes to light.'

The buzzing of the fluorescent lights sounded overly loud in the silence.

Draco stared down at the table. If I'd made a complaint about Astoria when she started coming on to me, he thought, could this whole shit-show have been prevented?

Is it too late?

He looked up at Harry. 'I have something to tell you,' he began.

* * *

Eventually, Draco and Harry finished up. Harry pulled the folder towards him and made to stand, but Draco stopped him.

'I have a question,' he said. 'It should be an easy one.'

Harry smiled crookedly. 'I'll give it my best shot, on the proviso that I still don't know where most of anything is, or if it exists at all.'

Draco smiled. 'I don't need to know right away, but I'd like to look into the possibility of transferring to a base in another country.'

Harry scratched his head. 'Yeah. I'll have to look that up. I'll let you know when I do.'

Draco stood up and shook Harry's hand. 'Thanks, mate.'

* * *

 **A/N: Hmm... is Draco plotting something? Stay tuned!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Welcome back, everyone!**

 **I was asked what countries Draco and Hermione are from. I didn't have any particular countries in mind when I started writing, so I tried to be as vague as possible about where everyone was. However, if you would prefer to know where they're from - based on the need for the plane to be big enough to need a flight crew rest area, I'd say Hermione lives in Vancouver, and Draco et al live in and around London, based at Heathrow airport.**

 **But maybe someone will relocate….**

* * *

Hermione and Blaise parked the car in a suburban park and bought ice creams.

The sat at a picnic table, eating them in companionable silence.

'Do you want to talk about it?' Hermione asked kindly.

Blaise was distracted by a rogue trail of melting ice cream that was threatening to attack his fingers. He stopped it with his tongue. 'Talk about…?'

'Your meeting with HR?'

'Oh.' He sighed and looked out at the playground, occupied by a lone toddler in a baby swing, pushed by her au pair. 'The only thing I can say is 'I didn't do it.' I'm happy to say it so many times I'll sound like a broken record player, if I thought it would do me any good. But in situations like this, who are they more likely to believe? The man or the woman?'

Hermione crunched into her waffle cone. 'The one that sounds the most believable. '

'Wonderful,' he scowled. 'Astoria's a great actress. She can turn the tears on and off at will. That's what got me into this mess in the first place.'

'Are you attracted to her?'

He whipped his head up and stared at her. 'W-what?'

Hermione continued. 'Have you ever thought about fucking her?'

Blaise's eyes narrowed. 'That's none of your business, Hermione,' he said in a low voice.

She shrugged sympathetically. 'I agree. But it's possible that in your interview, you may be asked those types of questions. Without warning. To put you off. Or, in their eyes, to 'catch you out.'

Blaise threw the last of his cone to a nearby bird. 'Shit.'

'So, how would you respond if they asked you either of those questions?'

Blaise sighed and titled his head up to the sun. 'Uh… 'Of course not. She's a colleague.''

'Um…' said Hermione doubtfully.

Blaise pulled a face. 'Wasn't I believable enough?'

Hermione thought about how to phrase her response. 'I haven't known you or Draco very long, but I have a fairly good idea of his reputation with women. You two are good friends, and you're single, I guess?'

He nodded.

'So, does your response tally with your social life? And are there people in HR who are likely to know about your social life?'

He smirked. 'Delicately put, Ms Granger. You're right. I'm a man-whore. I don't even remember how many women I've slept with. And you know what?'

She shook her head.

'I'm not fucking proud of it anymore.'

She reached over and put a comforting hand on his forearm. 'If you were asked such a question, my advice would be to politely ask what relevance the question has to the investigation. If they're fishing, that's usually enough for them to drop it. If they're being pricks and insist you answer, be as vague as you can possibly be. I don't recommend all-out lying. Astoria is a beautiful woman, after all. If you say you're not attracted to her, they'll assume you're lying, and that won't look good for you.'

Blaise rested his elbows on the table and sunk his head in his hands. 'I'm so fucked,' he said, his voice muffled.

Hermione's heart went out to him.

'When's your interview?' she asked.

'Tomorrow morning,' he said in a monotone.

She leaned over. 'Blaise,' she said, 'would you like me to come with you?'

He peered at her through his fingers. 'You said you can't practice law here.'

'That's true,' she said. 'But I can come with you as your advocate. Your support person.'

'Are you truly serious?'

She grinned. 'Sure.'

He heaved an enormous sigh of relief. 'My God. Thank you.' He reached for her, and she clasped his hand tight.

Less than a minute later, Blaise's phone beeped. Pulling it out, he smirked at the screen. 'Draco must have known I was touching you. Time to go and pick him up.'

They hopped up from the table and brushed ice cream debris from themselves before contorting themselves into the Porsche once more.

* * *

Draco was waiting outside Head Office's main entrance when Blaise and Hermione pulled up, as sedately as possible, in the Porsche. Blaise hopped out and extracted his case from the car while Draco replaced it with his.

'Cheers, mate,' Draco said to Blaise.

'No worries,' Blaise replied with a smile. 'We had a great time.'

Draco peered into the car's interior. 'Looks like you got a bit of sun, love.'

Hermione touched her nose, then pulled down the visor to look in the mirror. 'Oh, damn.'

'Whereabouts did you go?'

Blaise looked shifty. 'Oh, look at the time! I must be off, or I'll miss my train.'

'You raced it, didn't you?' Draco looked sceptical.

Blaise looked the picture of wounded innocence. 'Us? How could you think so poorly of your girlfriend and best mate?'

Draco raised an eyebrow at Hermione. She had the same wide-eyed look on her face.

He shook his head. 'Any speeding tickets incurred will be sent straight to your address.'

'Fair enough,' Blaise replied. 'Hermione – thanks again for your offer. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?'

'Of course. See you tomorrow,' she smiled.

Draco settled into the driver's seat. 'Tomorrow?'

'I said I'll be his advocate at his meeting with HR. He's tying himself into knots about it. Sorry I didn't check with you to see if you had plans' –

'Hey, it's fine,' he smiled. 'It's an amazing thing you're doing.'

She blushed, her cheeks now matching her nose.

He leaned over and slowly kissed her. Then his eyes widened. 'You two had ice cream?'

'How did you know?'

'I can taste it on your lips.'

She grinned. 'Guilty, Your Honour. Are you annoyed that we went without you?'

'You didn't eat them in the car, right?'

She raised an eyebrow. 'And if we did?'

Draco smiled dangerously. 'You really do walk into these, don't you?' He threaded his fingers through her hair. 'You'll be punished, of course.'

'I invoke my right to remain silent, sir.'

His eyes glittered. 'Oh, woman,' he whispered.

Hermione toyed with a tendril of his hair. 'You seem very tense. Maybe we should head to your place so you can relax.'

He smirked. 'How about we head to my place so that a particular part of my body can get really tense?'

'Even better.'

The Porsche roared off.

* * *

Draco said he lived in the country. Most of the time was spent on the motorway, leaving the city fringe behind, but after half an hour he turned off, and the Porsche began to eat up miles of country roads.

They drove through an old market town with three churches and three pubs. The poor Porsche had to crawl through the place, infamous as a bottleneck for city commuters. Once through the other side, Draco sped up and they flew along the road, where Hermione watched the landscape change from cattle farms to rows of vines.

'A vineyard!' said Hermione, surprised. 'I assumed it was too cold and wet for them.'

'This area has its own bizarre little microclimate. It's quite warm and dry in the summer months, compared with the rest of the country,' Draco said. 'Apparently, there are remnants of winery artefacts around here that go back to Roman times.'

'Wow,' she breathed, looking out of the window at the pretty scenery.

Shortly, Draco turned into a large driveway with a sign overhead.

Hermione read it. White Oaks Vineyard. She was confused. 'Are we going to the vineyard?' she asked.

Draco looked evasive. 'Uh, not yet,' he said. 'I drive through it to get to my place.'

They drove past a vine-covered one-storey brick building which housed the cellar door, then around a much larger facility where the wine was processed.

At length, they came to a fork in the road. A large, opulent manor house lay at the end of a leafy drive, and the other road skirted the vineyards. It was this road that Draco chose.

Hermione breathed a small sigh of relief. That house down the driveway was _huge._

The road quickly descended into something resembling a farm track, and Hermione worried for the poor car's suspension. Eventually, Draco drove the Porsche up to a….

… restored World War Two aircraft hangar?

He grinned. 'Welcome home.'

* * *

Draco pulled out his phone and pressed a couple of buttons. The massive hangar door slowly lifted up, and he drove the car inside.

Hermione smiled when she saw what was inside, and began laughing. 'I should have known,' she smirked.

Draco tried to look bashful.

He pulled the Porsche up next to a rather beat-up four-wheel drive, and they hopped out. Hermione took a good look at the hangar's centrepiece – a light twin-engine plane.

Draco came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

'Don't you have enough fun flying planes at work?' she smiled.

'Nah,' he said, and she laughed.

'What is it?'

'She's a 1962 Beechcraft Baron. Restored her myself. Took me over ten years.'

'Wow.' She slowly walked around the burgundy and white plane. She looked at him, mock-uncertainly. 'And it… flies?'

He rolled his eyes. 'Yes, doubting Thomasina, it flies. I'll take you up in it.'

She gulped.

'But not today. Come on, I'll take you inside.' He collected their cases.

'You live in the hangar?' she asked, confused.

He nodded to a nearby staircase that rose above a work bench. 'The Baron doesn't take up that much height space, so I had a false reinforced ceiling put in, and turned the area upstairs into an apartment.'

Crikey, she marvelled. Then again, a normal house would be too plain for someone as extraordinary as Draco.

At the stairs, he turned and gave her a whistle. 'C'mon, slowpoke!'

She poked out her tongue but hurried over, all the same.

* * *

Draco's apartment layout was pretty simple. The vast area was sectioned into partitions, the largest one being the living room and adjacent open-plan kitchen. Big windows spanned the length of the rooms, looking out over the lush vineyards. Since the hanger resembled a large semi-circle, and they were at the top of the building, the ceiling curved down on each side.

'So beautiful,' Hermione breathed, looking out. 'It must be really idyllic, living in a vineyard.'

'Most of the time,' Draco admitted, standing next to her. 'When it's frosty, though, some people might find it a pain in the arse.'

'Oh? Why's that?'

'Spring frosts can damage the young vine buds and shoots, which can be devastating for a crop. So when there's a frost coming, the vineyard staff have to warm the air up and circulate it among the vines somehow.'

She nodded. 'How do they do that?'

He smiled. 'Helicopters.'

She looked at him, surprised. 'Seriously?'

'Yep. They slowly fly over the vines and stir up slightly warmer air, which spreads through the crop. Trouble is, they tend to start at three or four in the morning. And they're kind of low-ish to the ground, which means they're pretty loud.'

Astounded, Hermione asked 'How do you cope?'

He laughed. 'Sweetheart, I'm a pilot. I'm in love with anything that flies.'

'Next, you'll be telling me you fly helicopters, too,' she said before she saw a slow grin bloom on his face. She threw up her hands. 'Of course you do. What a stupid question!'

He pulled her in for a quick kiss. 'You're catching on quick, love. Let's go see the rest of the place, then I can tell you what else I'm good at doing.'

'Do we have a spare ten hours, then?'

She squealed as he swatted her bum.

* * *

Four smaller rooms lined the other side of the hangar space, each with their own large windows and curved walls on one side. There was an office, which, to Hermione, looked like a paper-based bomb had been set off in it. Bookcases crammed with flying rules, aviation law and other books on planes or plane parts lined one wall, and filing cabinets that looked like they'd puked out their contents onto the floor lined another. Near the windows, his huge desk contained a computer with two monitors, although they were in danger from drowning in computer print-outs.

Draco looked abashed at Hermione's raised eyebrows. 'I've been meaning to clean in here,' he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. 'But I know where everything is.'

Hermione smirked. 'Don't tell me. You have a system.'

'Oh, definitely,' he agreed.

Next to the office was a spare bedroom, used many a time, Draco said, by Blaise or other colleagues after drinking too much to drive home. It was simple but functional, with a large bed, bedside tables, and a comfy chair that sat in a corner. Idly, Hermione opened one of the bedside table drawers and laughed when she saw it was crammed with condoms, lubricant and tissue packs.

'Most people who end up here are too drunk to think about safety,' Draco said wryly, 'so I thought I should perform a public service.'

'Good idea,' Hermione smiled. 'Do they get used?'

Draco rolled his eyes. 'Oh, God, yes.'

Next room along was a bathroom and toilet. It had all the standard bathroom features, including a separate glass shower, but Hermione was entranced with the claw-foot tub that stood next to the window. 'It's huge!' she marvelled.

'Fits two people,' Draco said smugly.

'You know this for a fact?'

He smiled, but didn't elaborate.

'Can people see in through this window?' she asked uncertainly.

'Yeah, of course!'

When she sputtered, he laughed and said 'Joking. It's treated so no-one can see in. Also, it's up too high for people to see in. Unless you're in a helicopter,' he finished thoughtfully.

Hermione was glad the window was treated.

The final room was the master bedroom, and was the second-biggest room in the apartment. In addition to a large bed and bedside tables, it held a large timber blanket box, a sofa, and a writing desk that stood in a corner. A laptop sat on it, along with some papers. Two doors in the room led to a walk-in wardrobe and an en-suite bathroom.

The clothes in the wardrobe didn't fill up the space. 'Your clothes look really lonely in here,' she said sadly.

'Yeah, I guess so,' he said. 'Doesn't help that I have a work uniform, so I don't need to own umpteen dozen business shirts with clashing ties.'

That reminded her. Draco was still in his pilot's uniform. She looked him slowly up and down, pulling her lower lip in with her teeth.

Draco smiled lazily. 'What's that long look for, love?' he asked, stepping closer.

'I'm sure someone with your experience would know,' she countered with a smirk.

Without warning, Draco grabbed her arse and lifted her up to his waist. She wrapped her legs around his waist (with a little difficulty, due to her skirt) and linked her hands around his neck. They kissed deeply and slowly, like they had all the time in the world.

'Six days with you,' Hermione breathed. 'Minus a morning with Blaise, of course.'

'I'll take it out of his hide,' Draco growled, kissing her neck.

'Didn't your mother teach you to share?'

'She didn't have propellers or wings, so I didn't pay much attention to her.'

She giggled. 'Horrid child.'

'I need a shower,' Draco whispered into her mouth before capturing her lips again.

'Can I join you?'

'You never have to ask, love,' he said softly.

* * *

Draco's en-suite shower was a frameless glass one set into the curved wall. It had a rainfall shower unit, but he turned the hand-held tap on instead. The floor had a central square of dark grey slate tiles, surrounded by a border of inlaid pebble stones. Toiletries were kept on a recessed three-tiered shelf. It was a really lovely shower, Hermione mused, as she stepped inside and stood under the warm water. With just a couple of couple of unexplained items.

'What are these white things attached to the shower wall?' she asked Draco, and smirked when his cheeks turned pink.

'They're… safety devices,' he said cagily.

She started laughing. 'Oh, come on! I doubt I'm the first woman to use this shower, and I bet these devices are related to some form of adult entertainment. Am I right?'

He grinned sheepishly, and joined her under the water spray. 'The two just above you are locking suction handles, for me or you to hold on to. The two lower down are similar, but they're footholds.'

She tried a foothold out. It bent her leg so that her body opened to him. 'So I see.'

Draco leaned against a wall and gazed at her, troubled.

'Hey,' she said, and stepped into his embrace. 'You all right?'

He looked down at her and sighed. 'Does it bother you that I've been with a lot of women before I met you?'

She kissed his chest. 'Everyone has pasts. They can't be changed. I've been with a few men before I met you. Is that a concern?'

He ran a hand through his wet hair. 'This is going to sound dumb and possessive… but... I'm kind of jealous of them, yeah.'

Hermione peered up at him. 'Why on earth would you be?'

Draco let out a breath. 'Because I didn't know you then.'

Her heart fluttered, then thumped. 'That's incredibly… cute.'

'Yuck,' said Draco with pretend disgust.

'And it's also really dumb.'

She shrieked as Draco tried to tickle her. 'Hey! That is extremely unsafe behaviour!'

* * *

After she let him catch her, they paused to catch their breath. Hermione figured it was as good a time as any to put her heart and dignity on the line, so she mentally girded up her loins. 'We need to talk about us,' she said carefully. 'This.' She pointed to herself, then to him.

To her relief, he agreed. 'I know in polite society it's ladies first, but would you rather I go first?'

She nodded nervously.

It took Draco a minute to put his thoughts into some sort of order. 'We've only known each other a few days,' he said frankly. 'But time can change that. I know, in this short space of time, that despite your not being with someone who sexually controls you before, I think we're very compatible. You're beautiful – I love your hair and that it seems like it has its own language, like your eyes. Your mouth is pouty and full and kissable, and I'm not exaggerating when I say that there are men out there who fantasise about tasting them. Or having them sealed around their cock.'

Her cheeks burned, and she looked down at the pebble border.

'Your body is small, but it's perfect. Your skin almost tastes sweet, did you know? And as for your pussy… wow. Just wow.'

His eyes met hers.

'I found all that out the first night we spent together. Since then, I've learned that you're intelligent, sassy, sometimes a smart-arse, compassionate, kind, curious and witty. It's been a really long time since I've felt this way about someone, and I've never felt this way so soon after meeting someone before. You're beautiful, Hermione, inside and out, and so damn unique.'

She lifted a slightly shaking hand and curled it in his.

He sighed. 'What I'm trying to say is I can see myself falling in love with you, given time. And if you want to, I think we should give a relationship a go. Somehow.'

He peered cautiously at Hermione. 'What do you think?'

Her smile was wobbly, but very genuine. Standing on her tip toes, she reached up to put her arms around his neck. 'I feel the same way,' she whispered. 'Exactly the same.'

Draco closed his eyes. 'Thank God.'

Their kiss contained many emotions, with happiness and relief coming out on top.

'We'll need to work out logistics,' she murmured.

'Save them for later. Right now, I have more important priorities,' he said with a gleam in his eye.

'Getting clean, or having sex?'

He grinned. 'Need you ask?'

'How about having sex first, then getting clean afterwards?'

He shrugged. 'Works for me.'

* * *

Hermione handled Draco's cock while they kissed, but when she went to kneel before him, he stopped her. 'What you did today was plenty,' he said seriously, helping her up. 'I still feel bad about it.'

'I want you to get over it soon,' she replied. 'At least a limit's been established.'

He smiled. 'Your rationality is one of many things I admire about you.'

He was quick to get hard without her mouth, and when he slid a finger inside her wet pussy, she moaned for his body.

Facing her away from the wall with the handles, he lifted her up. 'Hold on to them.'

She reached up and clung to each handle while she wrapped her legs around his hips. He poured a little conditioner – which lubricated but didn't descend into a ton of bubbles - onto his hand and worked it over his erection. Angling his cock at her entrance, he looked directly into her large, chocolate eyes.

She nodded, and he filled her.

Oh my God, thought Hermione as Draco withdrew and thrust once more, deeper. It's like having my hands restrained, even though I can let go of the handles. An illusion, rather than reality. Feeling helpless, at his mercy. His eyes are mesmeric. This is the best fucking shower sex ever!

She hungrily watched beads of warm water track over his flexed muscles, but soon felt alarmed as her traitorous body demanded to come. Oh, God no, she wailed inside, clenching her muscles (eliciting an oath from Draco). Why are you so fucking determined to get me into trouble?

'Love, why are your eyes screwed shut?'

'I'm t-trying not to come!' she moaned.

He smiled. 'You can come, sweetheart. Anytime you want.'

She ground her teeth in agitation. 'No! It's too soon! I need your cock inside me… oh God please…'

Draco smirked and leaned close to her ear. 'Are you going to come over my cock?' he whispered, stroking in and out.

'N-no!' she wailed, despite the overwhelming evidence Draco felt inside her cunt. God, her pussy is exquisite…

Without breaking rhythm, he detached the handheld shower unit and adjusted it to a high pressure with one hand. He angled the water jet directly over her clitoris.

'Oh my fucking God!' Hermione screamed, and convulsed hard over Draco's cock.

'I can't get enough of you,' he whispered, then swore as he came inside her.

* * *

They finished their shower interlude by washing each other's bodies. Hermione nearly came again at the feel of Draco's hands massaging shampoo, then conditioner into her hair. He'd be mobbed in a hair salon.

After their shower, they dressed and Hermione began the complicated process of drying her hair. 'I'll try not to take too long,' she said sheepishly.

Draco, fresh in jeans, an ancient Rolling Stones t-shirt and damp hair, kissed her forehead. 'Take all the time you need,' he smiled.

After about twenty minutes, Hermione glared in the mirror and decided that her rebellious curls were about as tamed as they could get. Dressed in some ripped skinny jeans and a white, off-the-shoulder ruffle top, she skipped into the living room.

'All done!' she said cheerfully, then she skidded to a stop in surprise.

Draco stood, with his arms crossed, by the kitchen's breakfast bar, where some reusable bags of groceries lay. Next to him was a beautiful woman with dark hair cut in a Cleopatra-style. She had exotic eyes and ruby red lips, which were moving animatedly until Hermione arrived.

Both women looked at Draco questioningly.

Draco sighed, and turned to Hermione. His smile didn't reach his eyes. 'Hermione, I'd like you to meet Isabelle,' he said evenly. 'My wife.'

* * *

 **A/N: You know me, the Cliffhanger Queen… Happy to take your reviews telling me exactly what you think of me! Fret not, readers – it will be okay. IT WILL BE OKAY!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Hello! Thank you for your reviews beseeching me to get the hell on with it and explain chapter 9's cliff-hanger. This chapter's small, by my usual standards, but I hope it's satisfactory. Sexy times etc will recommence in chapter 11.**

 **Warning: NO lemons!**

* * *

Wife.

I must have misheard, Hermione thought, even as she felt the blood drain from her face.

Isabelle slapped Draco on the arm. 'What did you say that for?' she complained. Turning to Hermione, she said placatingly 'It's all right, dear. We're just a few weeks away from finalising our divorce, and then I'll be this tactless idiot's ex-wife.'

Draco raised his head to the curved ceiling. 'Legally, you're still my wife until then. What am I supposed to call you?'

She looked at him scornfully. 'Why don't you start getting in practice now and call me 'ex-wife?' Or, perhaps try no labels at all? 'This is Isabelle, a family friend.' Is that better?'

Draco turned to Hermione, looking contrite. 'I'm really sorry, love.' He took a step towards her, but she skittered away, avoiding his eyes.

'Um. I'm Hermione,' she whispered to Isabelle.

She beamed. 'Lovely to meet you!' she said. 'The only reason I'm here is that we've had an arrangement since our separation that I do a grocery shop and put some food in his kitchen when he's been away a few days. Otherwise he just eats rubbish, or sponges meals off me and Glen – that's my brother,' she explained breezily. 'He's the winemaker here. Can you cook? I hope you can cook. Otherwise I fear for both your nutrition intakes.'

'Yes…? Uh, yes, I can cook,' stammered Hermione.

'Oh, good!' Isabelle waved her into the kitchen. 'Have a look through those bags. If you need anything else, I can take you into town, show you where the supermarket is.'

'Isabelle,' said Draco warningly.

She rolled her eyes and tossed him a beer from the fridge. 'Why don't you go and sort out that shithole of a room you call your office?' she asked brightly. 'Hermione will be safe here with me. You don't mind, do you?' she asked.

Hermione smiled faintly and shook her head.

'Are you sure, love?' Draco asked quietly.

She looked at him with a carefully blank face, and nodded. His eyes were troubled.

He glanced at Isabelle, then left the room.

'Right!' said Isabelle chirpily. 'I never bother buying him anything fresh, so why don't you make up a list of what you want? We can put it on his account at the store.'

* * *

Hermione and Isabelle clattered into town in Isabelle's Land Rover, bristling with stray bits of leafy vine. An enormous brindled Bullmastiff, stretched out across the back seats, lifted its head when Hermione climbed into the passenger seat, then went back to sleep.

'That's Petunia,' Isabelle said as she turned the key in the ignition. 'Meant to be a fearsome guard-dog type, but she's more likely to slobber you to death than attack you. Still, she looks the part. I hardly ever lock my car nowadays.'

Isabelle kept a steady stream of inconsequential chatter as Hermione chose some fresh fruit, vegetables, meat and delicatessen items. Petunia's nose twitched when the ladies loaded the shopping bags into the back of the vehicle, but otherwise didn't move.

Isabelle slowed the car at the intersection in the vineyard. 'Fancy a quick coffee?' she asked Hermione. 'Won't take long.' Her tone was light, but Hermione saw that her expression was serious.

'Sounds lovely,' she said, and the three girls soared down the driveway to the manor house.

* * *

In the vast, lived-in kitchen, Isabelle plonked a tray containing coffee, milk, sugar and biscuits on the well-worn table and settled in opposite Hermione. Petunia nosed about the table legs, investigating, before deciding nothing edible was present, and stretched out across the French doors that led to the patio.

Isabelle took a sip of coffee. 'Now,' she said. 'Please don't think I'm being inquisitive or rude. You seem like a lovely, intelligent woman, not at all like the pieces of fluff I've seen hanging off his arm on occasion. So…' she sighed. 'How do I put this?' She put down her cup and looked seriously at Hermione. 'Do you really know what you're getting into?'

Hermione looked into her own coffee cup. 'I thought I did,' she said frankly. 'We've only known each other a matter of days. It was just sex. At first. But the more time we spent together, the more…' she sighed. 'Just before you arrived, we'd agreed to try a relationship. But I'd no idea he was married.'

'Oh.' Isabelle's eyes were round.

There was a silence, before Hermione prepped herself. 'Why did you and Draco separate?' she asked, dreading the answer.

Isabelle's smile was fleeting. 'Oh, the usual excuse. He was unfaithful. Many times. Always when he was away. I wondered if he had a sex addiction. That might have made it a bit more palatable, maybe.' She sighed lightly. 'I found his second phone. The one with his 'adult friend-making' websites. I know they were just anonymous hook-ups. He'd probably struggle to recall a single face. But still. It's not to be borne. Not when you have a wife.'

For the second time, Hermione's face drained of colour. 'That's awful,' she said. 'I'm so sorry.'

Isabelle waved a hand airily. 'Water under the bridge now. We've been separated for – gosh, three years, is it? He may have changed, you know. Older and wiser, and all that.'

'What about the pieces of fluff you've seen him with?' Hermione asked wryly.

Isabelle shrugged. 'Various landowner's daughters wanting to hang off his arm for local events. They have a competition among themselves, you know. First to bed him, can you believe? Comp's still on, as far as I know.' She winked. 'They won't be pleased to see you!'

Hermione smiled weakly.

Isabelle put her cup down. 'Talk to him,' she advised. 'You need to know if you can trust him. Otherwise, it's not too late to back out.' She peered at Hermione. 'Or is it?'

Hermione looked at Petunia, snoring in the sun, but didn't answer.

'Oh dear,' Isabelle whispered.

'Has he bought any of the pieces of fluff home?' Hermione asked.

Isabelle snorted. 'Highly doubt it. I'm fairly sure you're the only woman he's invited to stay.' She smiled encouragingly.

Hermione thought of the shower. Specifically, the 'safety devices'. 'Do you still sleep with him?' she asked gently.

Isabelle's cheeks turned pink. 'It's been about six weeks since the last,' she admitted. 'I'm so sorry, dear! It won't happen again.' She sighed. 'But he's just so _damn_ good!'

Hermione grinned. 'No arguments there.'

Isabelle smiled, relieved. 'After all,' she confided with a naughty grin, 'a girl's gotta eat.'

* * *

Draco heard some rustling coming from the stairwell and opened the door. Hermione was heading up, with bags hanging off everywhere.

'Let me take those,' Draco said, coming down the steps and alleviating her of her burden.

'Thanks,' said Hermione. 'I thought I could get them up the stairs in one go but after I got halfway, I was beginning to feel like a pack mule.'

'I should get a service lift installed,' he said, heading to the kitchen. 'It was sheer hell getting all the furniture in.'

Hermione looked at the food on the bench, then at Draco, wondering which one to tackle first. She decided to do both at the same time. She opened up the fridge and started putting stuff away.

'Isabelle told me why you separated,' she said, keeping her tone neutral. She wasn't mad. But she was very nervous.

Draco, who was pulling items from the grocery bags, stilled. 'I was an utter arsehole back then,' he said, his voice low. 'Thought I could do whatever I wanted. Never considered how she would have felt.' He handed her a lettuce. 'I could handle her screaming at me. Throwing things at me. Destroying my stuff. I deserved those things. But it broke my heart to see her cry. I never want do anything to make anyone cry the way she did again. Believe me, love.'

She looked into his cerulean eyes. He was serious.

'She wondered if you have an addiction to sex,' she ventured.

He shrugged. 'I don't know,' he admitted. 'I love having sex. But I can go without it, too. She and I were at it like rabbits when we were first married, but a year or so in, things slowed down. I was too young or stupid, back then, to realise you can't go through your entire marriage fucking each other whenever and wherever. Izzy wanted to sleep most nights; I wanted to fuck. When I was on a layover, I just did what I wanted.

'I haven't had a relationship with anyone since Izzy,' he said warily, leaning up against the breakfast bar. 'I just wanted sex, and I got it through hook-ups or casual encounters with people I knew. When I knocked you over those few days ago, that was all I wanted.' He crossed his arms. 'But things began to change for me from that first night.'

Hermione slowly closed the fridge door, watching him.

'You're the first woman since Izzy that I want to be serious with, basically.' He rubbed his face and looked at her.

'Your introduction was a shock,' Hermione murmured.

'Yeah. I'm really sorry. I had no idea I could lodge my foot in my mouth so well.' He put his palms together, like a person praying. 'Forgive me?' he said, hopefully.

She smiled, and crossed the floor to him. 'For that? Yes.'

'Just that?' he asked.

'It's not my place to forgive you for cheating on Isabelle. And if you cheat on me, I'll never forgive you. Just so you know.'

'Understood.'

Hermione smiled. 'I know who last used your shower's 'safety devices,' she said.

'Oh, Jesus.' Draco looked scared. 'Look, we haven't been together in – in weeks, I promise!'

She started laughing. 'In the past,' she said. 'Just – no more surprises? Please?'

Draco drew her into his embrace. 'I promise,' he said quietly. 'Thank you.'

Hermione looked up. 'For what?'

He kissed her forehead and held her close again. 'For being you.'

* * *

 **A/N: Howzat? Please review!**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: The lemon is back, as promised! Pretty long, too - both the lemon and the chapter.**

 **Also featured is Blaise's meeting with HR.**

 **Warning, Blastoria, warning, angry sex, warning.**

* * *

On Hermione's first night in Draco's house, they slept together. Just slept.

They talked quietly into the night, Hermione fitting perfectly against Draco's side, his arm around her body; her arm resting on his chest.

The last thing they discussed was the prosaic subject of transport. Hermione needed to go to the airline's Head Office tomorrow, but Draco was on leave. He valiantly offered her the Porsche, but she could tell he was still recovering from loaning it to Blaise. She said she'd be happy with the four-wheel drive, assuming she could climb into it unaided. Which, for shorties, wasn't guaranteed.

In the end, Draco said he'd drive her in and do some paperwork while she had the meeting. He insisted, when she lifted up her head to tell him how stupid that was.

She kissed him instead.

Hermione hit a small snag when she got dressed the next morning. Having not expected to be 'working,' she only packed casual clothes. After a ponder, she chose some white linen capri pants and a loose forest-green collared shirt that she belted over the top. Some natural leather high-heeled open-toed sandals sorted out the feet.

Draco's eyebrows lifted over his coffee cup when she walked into the kitchen. 'You look lovely,' he smiled, handing her a just-poured cup and kissing her.

'Thanks,' she said, a little nervously. 'It's a far cry from my normal work clothing, though.'

'He peered into her eyes. 'You okay?' he asked. 'You seem nervous.'

She pulled a face. 'I am, a little,' she confessed. 'You never know how these turn out. And Blaise is a close friend of yours. He's so worried about the outcome.'

He hugged her with one arm. 'He's already in a much better space because of you,' he said. 'The HR Manager seems a pretty decent bloke. I never had much faith in the HR Department before, but I think it wouldn't be unreasonable for Blaise to have some hope.'

He clinked his coffee cup with hers. 'To hope.'

She smiled. 'To hope.'

The he grinned. 'And to us getting back home so we can have some fun!'

Hermione laughed and rolled her eyes. 'Sex is never far from your mind, is it?'

'Nope.' He winked.

'How often do you think about sex when you're flying a plane?'

'You don't want to know the answer.'

* * *

When Hermione entered the airline's Reception, she noted that a neatly-uniformed Blaise was already present, standing near a window. He was staring at his phone and looking thunderous.

She stepped up to the desk. 'Good morning,' she said briskly to one of the two middle-aged women behind the reception desk whose make-up seemed rather young for her face. 'I'm Ms Granger. I have an appointment with Mr Potter.'

'Certainly, Ms Granger,' the receptionist said politely, peering into her computer. 'Oh!' she said, seemingly surprised. 'He already has a meeting booked.'

'Would that be with First Officer Zabini?'

'Um…' the receptionist looked evasive.

'I'm representing Mr Zabini. Please let Mr Potter know we're both here.'

She pasted on a confident smile as she approached Blaise. 'You look like you're about to murder someone,' she whispered.

He glared at the receptionists, who were both busy ignoring him. 'It's already started,' he muttered. 'Those two dragons are treating me like a bloody criminal.'

Hermione looked over her shoulder. She caught one of the receptionists scowling in their direction. At Hermione's pointed look, she suddenly found her fingernails rather interesting.

She took Blaise's hand and squeezed it. 'Fuck their wrinkly arses,' she whispered.

He cracked a grin.

'That's better,' she said. 'Now you look less like a serial killer and more like a reasonable employee. Do you need your hat and jacket?'

Blaise was confused. 'Uh, no?'

'Good.' She held out her hand. 'Hand them over.'

Mystified, he did as ordered.

Draping his jacket over her arm and holding his hat, she marched up to the reception desk. 'Could you hang these up for us, please?' she smiled. 'It's far too hot to wear them, don't you think?'

The receptionist gaped at Hermione while she draped the clothes over the desk.

'And we'd like two coffees, please,' she added sweetly. 'Black, no sugar. Thank you.'

Blaise boggled as she walked back to him. 'Come and sit with me,' she invited, choosing a sofa that was some distance from the reception desk and the other visitors.

'What…?'

'We're just asserting the fact that you deserve to be treated the same way as the other visitors in this area,' she whispered, glancing at two businessmen, sipping coffee in their shirtsleeves while they looked with interest at her and Blaise.

True enough, one of the receptionists tottered towards them, carrying two coffees on a tray. She placed them on the coffee table and addressed Hermione. 'Is there anything else I can help you with, Ms Granger?' she asked.

'Not for the moment,' Hermione smiled. 'Thank you.'

As the receptionist headed back to the desk, Hermione put a hand on Blaise's arm. 'Don't drink the coffee,' she murmured.

He raised an eyebrow. 'Why?'

'Firstly, she's probably spat in them. Secondly, the point of the coffee was to get her off her arse and inconvenience herself, not for us to drink them.'

Blaise looked at her with awe. Wow. What a woman, he marvelled.

* * *

Mr Potter ('call me Harry, please,') met them personally at Reception and took them to his office. As Hermione passed his desk, she saw an adorable photo of a chubby little baby with his dimply arms raised in the air and a huge gummy grin on his face.

She paused by it. 'Do I detect a family resemblance?' she smiled.

Harry looked at it fondly. 'Our first,' he admitted. 'Do you have any?'

'Uh, no,' she blushed. 'Not yet.'

Why did I say that? she wondered.

At the smallish table in his office, all three sat down. 'Uh, we need to wait for one other party to arrive,' Harry said, almost apologetically. 'One of the airline's solicitors.'

Blaise swallowed, and Hermione briefly clasped his hand under the table.

'So, where are you from, Ms Granger?' Harry asked.

'Please call me Hermione.' She fished out a stray business card from her handbag and chatted about the firm where she worked in Vancouver, and what area of law she specialised in.

Harry's door burst open, and an absolutely huge slug of a man slithered in. Dressed in a shiny grey suit with a black tie, the grey-skinned man with a chest that seemed to slide into his gut heaved his considerable weight to the table. Harry stood up and moved along a seat, since it wasn't likely that this blob would be capable of getting around him.

He made a performance of digging out folders, pads, legislation, pens and a Dictaphone and dumping them on the table. Once he had his mess sorted to his satisfaction, he looked up, almost surprised to see other people sitting at the table, watching him.

'Oh. You're all here,' he grunted. 'Well. Good.'

Blaise and Hermione surreptitiously glanced at each other.

'Talbot,' the newcomer spat. 'Wilhelm Talbot. I represent this airline's legal affairs.' He squinted at Blaise. 'You must be Zabini,' he said, looking down his nose at him. The he turned his glare to Hermione. 'Who are you?'

'Hermione Granger, First Officer Zabini's representative,' she said coolly, lightly emphasising Blaise's title. Normally she would have held out a hand to shake, but she didn't want to touch any part of that, um, man.

'Are you with the pilot's union?' he barked.

'No, sir,' she replied.

Talbot glared at Blaise. 'Why aren't you represented by the pilot's union?'

Blaise glared right back. 'Cos I don't like 'em,' he said in his grittiest east London accent.

'Well, that's unacceptable,' Talbot sniffed. 'Pilots are to be represented by their union in cases like this.' He started packing his crap back into his sorry-looking briefcase. 'Call me when the correct representation is sorted out, will you, Potter?'

Harry opened his mouth, but Hermione jumped at the opportunity to manage this little – er, large - toad.

'Can you point me to the legislation or clause in the airline's employment contracts or employee handbook that states that pilots must be represented by the pilot's union, please?' she asked.

He looked up, surprised. 'That's how it's always been done,' he sniffed.

'Indeed,' smiled Hermione. 'The legislation or governing employment documents, please?'

He narrowed his eyes at her. 'It is custom, rather than law.'

'Custom,' Hermione repeated, and turned to Harry. 'Harry, are you okay with some customs being updated every now and again?'

He smiled. 'Of course.'

'In that case,' Hermione said briskly, 'shall we start? I have a ride waiting in an hour's time.'

* * *

As far as this sort of meeting went, it was…

Well.

Harry was very reasonable, as Draco said. The Slug, on the other hand, was a misogynistic twat. When Blaise put his side of the story forward, he jumped in with 'questions.'

'Have you slept with cabin crew before, Mr Zabini?'

Blaise looked at Hermione before replying 'My relationships are personal affairs, Mr Talbot.'

'Well?' Talbot spat. 'Have you?'

'Can you explain to my client what the relevance of your question is to the investigation, please?' Hermione asked.

He narrowed his eyes at her. 'To determine if he has a habit of molesting young women!' he thundered.

On a punt, Hermione said sympathetically 'I take it you've met the young lady in question.'

'Indeed I have!' Talbot said indignantly. 'A most convincing, er, girl.'

Translation: he was mesmerised by her tits and she played him like a fish on a line.

'Ah,' Hermione said. 'In the interests of ensuring a fair investigation is being conducted, I take it you can confirm that she was also asked if she's slept with fellow employees before?'

Talbot glared at her, but she sat still, waiting politely for his response.

'I withdraw the question,' he spat.

Under the table, Blaise grasped her hand in gratitude.

* * *

And on it went. Accusation, deflection. Accusation, deflection. Blaise did well, exceptionally well when Harry posed the questions. When it came to fielding Talbot's jibes, the toe of Hermione's sandal was practically embedded in Blaise's ankle for the number of times she had to silently remind him to keep a lid on his temper.

Eventually, Harry and the Slug got all the useful information they could from Blaise. Now it came down to determining next steps.

Harry opened the gambit. 'These sorts of investigations are rather difficult,' he started. 'No matter how much we try to prevent these things, word just seems to spread.'

'I am aware,' Blaise replied neutrally.

Talbot barged in. 'The airline thinks it would be best if you take some leave while this investigation continues.'

'Leave,' repeated Blaise.

'What sort of leave?' asked Hermione.

Talbot blustered 'His annual leave, of' -

'Discretionary leave,' Harry said firmly. 'Paid, no fixed end, no impact on his annual leave balance.'

'What sort of message is that likely to send to the rest of the staff?' Hermione asked.

'We can't be responsible for staff gossip, young lady,' Talbot snapped.

God, what a flaccid prick you are, Hermione thought.

'Has Ms Greengrass also been placed on this 'discretionary leave?' she asked instead.

The Slug and Harry exchanged looks.

'No,' said Harry, when it became apparent that Sluggy wasn't going to answer.

'Oh!' said Hermione. 'Annual leave, then?'

'She's on ground duties,' Harry said before the Slug could interject.

Hermione frowned. 'I have to say I'm rather concerned about the bias the airline appears to be showing towards Ms Greengrass.'

'What utter nonsense!' Talbot filibustered, but Harry shut him down.

'What do you recommend?' he asked.

She had a quick word with Blaise, and responded 'He'd like to complete his training towards his Captain's qualifications. He's happy to study at an alternative location, if that suits.'

Harry didn't bother looking at Talbot before he said 'I'm sure we can arrange something suitable.'

Blaise nodded curtly. 'Thank you.'

The meeting was over. Harry and the pestilent Talbot would consider the information they'd received and contact him with the outcome of their investigation.

The Slug may have been the last to arrive, but he was the first to leave. Harry's office seemed a little bigger without him.

'So, Hermione, what are your plans?' Harry asked as they were packing up. 'Are you going to be moving here?'

'Oh,' she blushed. 'It's an option I'm considering.'

Harry nodded, then he leant towards her. 'Mr Talbot is going to be retiring soon,' he said confidentially. 'If you sit the Qualified Lawyers Transfer Test, you can practice law in this country… and maybe consider opportunities with this airline?'

She smiled. 'I'll certainly think about it.'

'Good.' He shook her hand and smiled. 'It was a pleasure meeting you.'

It was Blaise's rostered day off. Unfortunately Draco and Hermione came in the Porsche, so while Hermione would have loved to have offered Blaise a ride home, they couldn't.

'Hey, don't you worry about me,' he said, bringing an arm around Hermione and hugging her. 'Mate,' he said to Draco, 'you should have seen her in action.' He waved his hand in front of his face. 'Smoking hot.'

Draco smiled at her. 'I can imagine.'

'I think Harry's a reasonable bloke,' Hermione told Blaise. 'Granted, Talbot is a prick of the first water, but if he's pegged for retirement, he won't have the clout that he thinks he has. Harry has the final say. I can't promise a positive result, but I think we can be confident that sanity should prevail.'

Draco and Blaise exchanged looks over her curly head. If it did, it would be a first for Human Resources.

'Will you be all right?' Draco asked Blaise.

He bared his teeth. 'Me? Box of fluffies, mate.'

'Okay, well, keep in touch, eh? Let us know what happens.'

Blaise nodded. 'Will do, of course.' Keeping an eye on Draco, he approached Hermione and kissed her on the cheek. 'You were awesome. You're my own personal superhero.'

She laughed. 'We haven't won yet! But I'm pretty sure we will.' She smiled up at him.

They said goodbye, and went their separate ways.

* * *

Blaise told a pork pie. He wasn't exactly okay.

He was mad as hell.

He was incredibly grateful to Hermione for steering him through the meeting. That fat bastard instantly got under his skin, and he knew that if she wasn't there, he would have lost his shit completely within the first five minutes. Then he would have kissed his job goodbye, no matter what he had or hadn't done.

On the train home, he pulled his hat over his eyes, jammed his earbuds into his ears and gave off an almost palpable vibe that clearly stated that he wanted to be left the fuck alone.

But once inside his flat, there was little to distract him. He felt revolting from having to breathe the same air as that fat lump of a lawyer, so he turned the shower on and stripped himself of his uniform.

He let the warm water pound the top of his head and sluice over his body. Staring at the water pooling around his feet, his mind meandered from his frustration at the meeting to why he was there in the first place.

Astoria fucking Greengrass.

His vision went red, and he punched the shower tiles, yelling out his frustration when the pain coursed through his fist.

He wrenched the tap off and stormed into his bedroom. Once clothed, he grabbed his keys and motorbike helmet, slamming his front door shut as he left.

* * *

It was Astoria's rostered day off too, but – unusually - she wasn't out and about. She was getting tired of the surreptitious looks from colleagues at work, and didn't want to hang out with them on her day off. Female cabin crew usually got transferred to ground duties when they became pregnant, but everyone knew what her excuse was. Some were sympathetic. Others were disbelieving. She was sick of the lot of them.

Her flatmate was on a stopover in New York, the lucky cow, so it was just her rattling around their flat. Out of boredom, she decided to give the place a thorough clean. Listlessly, she pulled on a pair of faded pink cut-off shorts that she wouldn't be caught dead outside in, and a grey ribbed singlet. She yanked her mass of hair into a messy topknot, and turned on some music. Not too loud; the cranky old bitch upstairs was forever threatening to call the Council noise nannies about their 'ridiculous caterwauling.'

She amassed her cleaning materials, shoved them into a bucket, and traipsed to the kitchen.

* * *

An hour later, Astoria was in the bathroom with her head in the below-sink cupboard, when she heard a pounding at the door.

She ripped off her rubber gloves in frustration. How can that bloody neighbour be complaining about the music? She herself could barely hear it herself from the bathroom.

She stood up, fuming. That cow is going to get a piece of my mind, she grizzled as she stomped to the front door.

She wrenched it open, but the rude words she planned to throw at the old bat died on her lips.

It was Blaise, dressed in bike leathers, holding his helmet and looking incredibly angry.

* * *

He stepped inside the flat, causing Astoria to stumble back in surprise. Once clear of the door, he slammed it shut, making her jump. He put his helmet down and undid his jacket, wrenching it over his strong shoulders as he advanced towards her. 'I want to know why, Astoria,' he snarled. 'Why the fuck did you make that shit up about me sexually assaulting you?'

He had her right up against the hallway wall; he towered over, dark and menacing. He threw his jacket over his helmet and slammed each hand on either side of her. 'Why?' he yelled, practically in her face.

Her heart was pounding and her throat was dry. Simply put, she was terrified. 'I -I -I' – she gulped, tears of fright burning her eyes. She tried once more to talk, but her tongue wouldn't obey her.

'Speak up!' Blaise roared, grabbing her jaw and lifting her so that her bare big toes just skimmed the ground.

She clutched his arm with both hands, trying to claw his grip free. 'I'm sorry, all right?' she screamed back through gritted teeth, regardless of the pressure Blaise had on her face. 'I'm sorry I said it!'

Her tears blurred her vision and she couldn't see the look on his face. But he suddenly let go of her jaw. She lost her footing and slid down the wall, falling to the ground at his feet.

'Get up,' he spat.

'Get the fuck out of my house!'

He grabbed both her wrists and hauled her up. Up close to his face, she could almost feel his rage pulse from his body. But before she could say a word, he spun her around and shoved her down the hallway. 'Go,' he ordered.

He'd been here before when she and her flatmate had a party. He knew where the bedrooms were. In fact, her flatmate confessed to giving Blaise a blow-job in Astoria's room because some inconsiderate arsehole was fucking someone in her room.

She was tempted to tell him to fuck himself, but she was dealing with an unknown situation. She only knew Blaise as a high-spirited, good-natured bloke, cute and sexy and harmless. This Blaise was psychotic. Baiting him didn't seem wise.

True enough, another shove from Blaise had her stumbling into her bedroom and falling onto the bed. She leapt off the other side, putting the bed between them. 'W-what are you going to do?' she asked as bravely as she could.

He quietly closed the bedroom door and stood next to the bed, glaring at her. His chest heaved up and down from the force of his rage.

For a split second, Astoria remembered the sight of his nude body from their stopover. And the way it felt against her. She mentally slapped herself. Not the right time, Greengrass.

When Blaise next spoke, his voice was dangerously low. She found it even scarier than his yelling. ''You're sorry,' you say?' he asked. 'Well, it's a bit too little, too fucking late!' he spat. 'Everyone at work's treating me like I committed some sort of fucking crime! They look at the black man and think 'No surprises there. Look at poor, delicate, _white_ Astoria Greengrass. He must have done it. There's no way she would have let him fuck her.'

Astoria's shaking hands covered her mouth. 'That's… horrible!' she gasped. 'Who the hell would think so poorly of you?'

Blaise began to pace. 'It only takes one, little Tori,' he sneered. 'Next thing you know – boom! Everyone looks at you like they want to spit on you.'

Something heavy and black coiled in Astoria's stomach. 'Jesus. I'm so sorry.'

He moved so fast, she didn't even see him. Next thing she knew, she was on the bed, Blaise leaning over her but still standing on the ground. 'You told me that, you irresponsible little bitch,' he spat. 'What I want to know is why?'

She remembered how angry she felt back in Vancouver when he walked out of her room. They'd slept together, and he just completely blanked her! Pretended it never happened! Well, it did happen. She remembered it very, very well. She'd thought about it a lot, truth be told.

He was, quite simply, amazing.

She inhaled a shuddering breath, edging slightly to the other end of the bed. 'I was angry that you pretended we hadn't had sex earlier,' she said in a small voice.

Blaise stood up and strode to the other side of the room, clutching his hair and swearing. He spun around, half-enraged, half-despairing. 'For the last, fucking time, Tori,' he gritted, 'we never had sex. Never! Do you hear me?'

Offended, she knelt on the bed and walked on her knees to the edge. 'I'm telling you we did!' she said hotly. 'I can remember almost every single thing we did!'

Blaise boggled at her. 'You're crazy!'

She glared back. 'You're a deserting liar!'

His mouth opened, but no words came out. He flung himself into her corner chair and started unlacing one of his boots. He hauled it off and hurled it at the door, shortly followed by the other one.

Astoria stared at the flying boots. 'What the hell are you doing?' she demanded.

Blaise stood up and advanced towards her, pulling his t-shirt over his body. Dropping it to the floor, he said evenly 'You say I fucked you. I say I didn't. If I'm going to lose my job, my dear Tori, then it had better be worth my while.'

He stood at the end of the bed, towering over her. Her eyes travelled up his beautiful body to his scowling face. The black, coiling thing in her stomach dissolved into something that made her clitoris tingle, even as her heart pounded and her throat ran dry.

She met his glare.

Then he bent down, placed his hands on either side of her face, and kissed her. Hard.

* * *

Blaise's blood was boiling inside him. Half his body was in a white-hot rage, and the other half was yelling at him to stop what he was doing before he took things too far.

The boiling blood took over, and he pressed his tongue into Astoria's mouth, sending an internal snarl of triumph to his conscience when her mouth opened and accepted his touch. Her hands were lightly balanced on his torso, her fingers brushing against his abdominal muscles. This light touch alone sent raw need straight to his cock.

He pulled away from her and pushed her down to the bed. With wide eyes, she scooted back and watched while he undid and removed the belt to his black Kevlar jeans. He looked consideringly at the belt. Astoria drew in her breath. Is he going to use it on me? she panicked. Oh my fucking God…

His eyes snapped to hers. 'Take off your clothes,' he ordered. 'Don't look away from me.'

He dropped the belt while Astoria pulled her singlet over her head, and he unzipped his jeans while she wriggled out of her shorts. Blaise looked leisurely at her long, pale legs while he pulled his jeans down and stepped out of them. Her gaze skittered to his groin.

'Eyes up!' he snapped. She jumped; and did so.

Blaise's long, slender fingers brushed over his erection as Astoria undid her bra and pulled it off. Her large breasts bounced free. He pretended not to be affected by her beautiful, curvy body. It was utter perfection. Shame about the nutcase head.

He pointed a finger to her panties, then worked his underwear down his hips, letting them fall to the floor.

Astoria was tossing her panties over the side of the bed when he looked back up. She saw run his eyes slowly down her body and couldn't miss his reaction: he was stroking his long, thick cock almost absent-mindedly.

'Bring back any memories?' she snapped.

'Only bad ones.'

She opened to mouth to yell an obscenity at him, when in the blink of an eye, he was over her. 'Did you think I'd use my belt on you?' He smiled coldly.

'I wouldn't put it past you.'

His smile became a grin, but it wasn't a nice one. 'I don't use belts,' he murmured. 'Except when the girl begs me to.'

He kissed her forcefully, then pulled slightly away. 'Are you gonna beg me, Tori?'

'Fuck you!' she spat.

He smiled and cocked his head to one side. 'Oh, Tori, Tori,' he sighed.

He slammed his cock hard into her soaking wet cunt.

* * *

It was a fight. They both wanted it. But they both wanted to win.

They fucked each other long into the day, each taking what they wanted; no asking. Sweat slicked their bodies as the room warmed in the summer sun, trickling slowly down their backs and chests and dampening their hair.

Once he'd sheathed himself inside the hot, tight, wet deliciousness of her pussy he withdrew completely, smiling at her yelp of rage at the loss. He spread her long legs apart and buried his face in between them, sucking at her labia and clit while spearing his tongue hard into her core. She gripped his head and pushed him closer, demanding impossibly more.

Lifting his head and gasping for breath, he stabbed two long fingers into her channel and explored it until he came across that elusive little patch of nerves. He rammed his fingers into her pussy with lightning speed, pressing up against her g-spot and causing her to writhe on his fingers wildly.

'God yes, Blaise, don't stop don't fucking stop I'm gonna' –

He withdrew his fingers and stood up.

'What the fuck?' Astoria shrieked in a rage, sitting up. 'Where the hell do you think you're going?'

Blaise strolled leisurely to the chair where he'd removed his boots and plonked himself in it. He stroked his cock lazily and crooked a finger at her. 'Get over here.'

Seething, she leapt off the bed and stomped over to the chair. 'What the hell is your game?' she snarled.

He took a handful of her now-loose hair and brought her head sharply down to meet his. 'Kneel on the floor and lick my face clean of your juices,' he said.

She glared at him and tried to pull away, but his fist was still in her hair. With bad grace, she slumped to the floor and leaned over to reach his face. She dragged her tongue along his jaw and chin, licking and sucking at her own body's scent. She traced the top of his lip, cheeks and nose, licking him completely dry – except for his lips.

Raising a sardonic eyebrow, she leaned back.

'You haven't finished,' he said.

She gave him the finger.

His hand shot out and wrapped around her wrist. Dragging her forward, he wrapped his other hand around the back of her head and slammed his lips on hers, tasting every part of her mouth, tongue and teeth with his tongue.

He pulled away, satisfied. 'Now you're finished.' Not waiting for her reaction, he ordered 'Sit on my cock.'

Oh, how she wished she could walk away. But the feel of his cock inside her was unbelievable. She climbed onto his lap, straddled her knees on either side of his thighs, and sank down onto Blaise's considerable erection. When he was fully inside her, she moved her hips back and forth shallowly, getting just the movement she needed from him.

Just as she was really getting into it, he stopped her. 'What now?' she sighed.

He took her wrists. 'Bring your legs out from under you and lean back.'

'Back?'

'Back.'

With a little difficultly she brought her feet around so they were near his waist. Stiffly, she leaned back.

'More.'

She tried again.

'I said more.'

She sighed in frustration. 'I'll fall!'

'My legs are right behind you. I'm holding your wrists. You won't fall.'

'Yeah, like I can trust you.'

A dangerous light crept into his eyes. 'Don't tempt me.'

She swallowed, and leaned backwards so the back of her head rested against his shins. Blaise raised himself further up on the chair and said 'I'm gonna hold your waist, one hand at a time.' Quickly, he let go of one wrist and gripped her waist, followed by the other. She used her free arms to brace herself on the floor, like doing a backwards handstand.

Blaise began to move in her. Light, shallow thrusts, right up against her –

'Oh my God!' she moaned, entranced.

Blaise controlled the rhythm, and when Astoria's moans indicated that she was building up to an orgasm, he applied his thumb to her clitoris. Her entire body convulsed, and she wailed, begging for more.

He fucked her and played with her clit, listening for the approach of her orgasm… then, just as it was near - he pulled her upright.

'No!' she screamed, incensed, and hit his shoulders. 'You – you cunt-blocking bastard!'

Ignoring her, he threw her over his shoulder and returned her to the bed, dumping her in the middle of it. Judging which side of the bed she slept on, he pulled open the drawer to her bedside table and dumped the contents onto the bed.

Astoria was agape. 'Get the hell out of my private things!' she shouted. 'Who the fuck do you think you are?'

He held up an index finger and fished through her stuff, quickly isolating what he was looking for. He tossed her a tube of lubricant and a butt plug, then swept the rest of the things back into the drawer. 'Put it in.'

She glared at the toy, then at him. 'Make me,' she spat.

She recognised her mistake as soon as the words were out of her mouth. That dangerous light appeared in his eyes again, and she shivered when he said, in a slow, low voice: 'You do not want that to happen. Not in the mood I'm in.'

She lay against the pillows and coated the large plug with lubricant. With pink cheeks (she'd not done this in front of anyone before) she spread her legs and felt with two fingers for the entrance to her arse.

'Eyes on me,' he snapped. She looked up. He was at the end of the bed again, watching her, stroking his cock. Occasionally he'd brush his hand against his balls.

Fine. Eyes on him. Glaring, she pushed her buttocks aside, displaying her hole to him. 'Want it?' she spat.

He lazily waved his free hand, ordering her to get on with it.

She steadied her breathing. As angry as she was, she didn't want to hurt herself by shoving the plug hard into her body before it was ready. She applied some lube around the entrance to her arse, then pressed the tip of the plug in, just a little bit. Her lips parted at the funny, but not painful sensation.

She pressed the plug in a little more, and a moan broke free from her throat. His eyes glinted, and he stroked himself a little harder.

Next, she inserted and withdrew the plug, a little at a time, biting her lip – not just at the feeling now, but at how it will feel when he fucks her with her arse full. Then when he fucks her arse itself. Two peas in a pod, they were, sexually-speaking.

Finally, she'd got the plug in place. 'What now?' she demanded.

'Wash your hands,' he said dismissively.

Rolling her eyes, she climbed off the bed and tiptoed to her bathroom, making sure the plug didn't work its way free. When she returned, he was leaning against the wall, looking idly out of the window.

He didn't even look at her when he said 'On your knees. Suck my cock.'

She put her hands on her hips. 'Could you perhaps have asked me to do this _before_ I put the butt plug in?'

He pointed his finger down. 'I'm not asking.'

A smile played on her face as she slowly knelt before him, but a fist seized her hair and yanked her head back. 'Touch any part of me with your teeth and I will use that belt on you,' he snarled. 'Don't think I won't.'

She poked her tongue out at him, and held his cock, studying it to determine the best way of approach.

Like the rest of his body, his cock was beautiful. It was a rich chocolate colour, which made her think briefly of Magnum ice creams. He was circumcised, and the smooth, muscular contours would feel heavenly on her tongue, she knew.

She sealed her wet mouth around the head of his cock and sucked hard.

'Jesus,' Blaise muttered.

She worked her wet mouth, inch by inch, down his cock – retreating a little; then pushing further, stroking the remainder of his cock, watching his taut thighs ripple. His breathing was ragged. When she relaxed her mouth and pulled as much of him into her throat as she could, she briefly looked up and saw that he'd tipped his head back, and his hands were clasped around it.

For a moment, her anger left her. He was sublime.

It was hard to suck cock and clench your butt and pelvic floor muscles together, but she managed a rhythm, pulling hard on his cock, spitting on it so her hand could move slickly up and down. Up and down. Up and –

'Get up.'

She climbed carefully up, and was pleased to see that his cold façade was looking a little rattled. Looking him in the eye, she slowly licked her lips.

He dragged her to the bed, making her climb on so that she was on her hands and knees. He brushed his hands gently over her buttocks – then he slapped one. Hard. The sound cracked in the air.

She whirled around, enraged and slapped him back – on his chest, since that was the flesh in front of her. It hurt. 'Fucking bastard!'

He grabbed her wrists, but Astoria hadn't studied ballet for ten years for nothing. She lashed out with her leg and got him across the top of his thighs. She tried desperately to release herself but he roughly manhandled to the bed, back in the position she was in before.

He leaned over her, anchoring her arms to the mattress with his, ignoring her shrieks and threats. She felt his warm body up flush against her and wondered if she was in a dream or a nightmare.

God, she hated him.

So why, when she felt his erection probe her cunt, did she angle herself so he could enter her in one, brutal stroke?

She didn't know.

* * *

She felt amazing. She might be as mad as a nest of hornets, but her body was sublime.

No wonder Blaise couldn't stop thinking about her. It was just her body that was threatening to drive him insane. Good. Once he fucked her, she'd be out of his system.

He built up a steady, hard rhythm, and he was able to let go of her hands. Gripping her hips, he pulled her into him, over and over. The butt plug tightened her channel, and the extra sensation was beyond amazing. She loved it, too, pushing her marvellous arse against his body and moaning for more in a broken voice.

He could feel the end of his resilience approach, but he wasn't done. He'll have that arse of hers. He wanted to fuck every single hole she had until she screamed his name.

He withdrew from her, almost salivating at the sight of his glistening cock as it appeared. 'Shush,' he snapped as she yelped in protest. He withdrew the plug from her body as carefully as he could with his shaking hands, and grabbed the lubricant.

He spread some over his cock, and lined it against the widened hole of her arse.

'Blaise' -

He surged in.

* * *

Yes.

Oh, fucking hell, yes.

Astoria's buttocks jiggled as he fucked her arse deep and hard. He wrapped some of her hair around his wrist and pulled her head up. 'Is this what you want, little Tori?' he spat as he relentlessly speared his cock inside her.

'Yes!' she sobbed to the duvet. 'Yes, fuck you to hell!'

'I'm going to enjoy coming in you,' he said, feeling his balls start to tighten. 'Think you're going to join me?'

She screamed in raw anger. 'If you don't let me come I swear to God I will hunt you down and slaughter you!'

He laughed without humour. 'As if you could. Don't squirm, my little Tori. I can feel your body. It's building, isn't it?'

'Oh God,' she sobbed. 'Don't do this to me.'

He wasn't going to care. That was the plan. Come inside her, pull out, put clothes on, leave. He didn't give the slightest shit about Astoria fucking Greengrass.

So he surprised himself, that when he felt his orgasm build he snaked a hand around her front and played with her clitoris.

Her ragged moans increased. 'Oh God, please,' she sobbed.

He pulled her damp hair from the side of her face – gently, this time.

'Come for me, Tori,' he whispered.

Her entire body convulsed powerfully and she cried out in ecstatic relief.

He closed his eyes and felt the most intense orgasm he'd ever had pulse through his body.

* * *

Blaise was exhausted. All the rage he'd had trapped within his body had finally gone.

When he gently withdrew, he saw the violent red palm print he'd left on Astoria's buttock.

God. What the hell have I done?

Astoria climbed stiffly off the bed, her face obscured by her hair. Slowly, she pulled a summer dressing down off the hook behind her door and put it on.

'Tori,' he said gently.

She looked up. Her face was wreathed in tears, and Blaise's heart hurt.

'Tori, love,' he tried again. 'I'm sorry' –

'I'm going to have a shower,' she said listlessly. 'Please don't be here when I return.'

Then she was gone.

Blaise scrubbed his face with his hands. Leaving was the last thing he wanted to do. But it was the only thing she wanted.

He climbed into his clothes and pulled on his boots. He collected his jacket and helmet from the front door, and quietly left.

* * *

Astoria sat in the corner of the shower, ignoring the slowly-cooling water dousing her body.

She thought back to when Blaise entered her.

When she took him in her mouth.

Then she thought back to the night in Vancouver. He was different. Specifically, his cock was different. The way he came was different.

She'd had so much to drink that night…

Blaise was right. They hadn't had sex that night. She must have dreamt the whole damn thing.

Oh, dear God.

She buried her head in her hands and sobbed.

* * *

 **A/N: What impact will this have on the investigation? Also, Dramione lemons should be back next chapter, if everything goes to plan. Stay tuned!**

 **10/26/2017 Note:** Thanks to everyone who's read and reviewed so far. Reviews have been a mixed bag - partly due to a dislike of Astoria (noted, but there's not much I can do about it now), and partly due to **confusion over why Blaise would have sex with Astoria when she's (potentially) ruined his life.** So...

Blaise's original intention wasn't to have sex with Astoria for enjoyment. He was angry, and if he were a lesser man, or had less self-control, he might have raped her. But he wasn't that kind of guy, and he derived a perverse satisfaction from rough sex and preventing Astoria from orgasming. He was asserting power over her.

They didn't have sex because they were attracted to each other, or even liked each other. They were both angry, and thus had angry sex. It wasn't until the end when both realised the consequences of what they'd done (he used her roughly and may have come close to seriously damaging her; she realised he was telling the truth). Act in haste; repent at leisure, etc.

Angry sex is a strange type of sex because the reasons for it are different from the usual 'I'm attracted to you' sex. So, yes - the scene is fucked up, for sure.

Also, character - wise, Blaise and Astoria are flight and cabin crew, respectively. A reasonable chunk of people in this industry spend a lot of time away and have a different viewpoint of sex than other people might have.

A lot of the sex scenes in this story, including the one in this chapter, are based on stories told to me by people in the industry. Most of them are true. Their jobs are their lifestyles, but their lifestyles aren't for everyone. It's not everyone's cup of tea, shall we say.

Having written all this, you're all entitled to your own opinions! But if some of what I've written here makes sense, even in a fucked-up way, then: yay. :)

Thanks for reading,

 **NeverNik**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Hi everyone - If you read chapter 11 shortly after it was uploaded, I've added a note at the end of it that might help explain what the Blastoria lemon was about.**

 **This chapter has been reviewed by people with far more plane-flying expertise than me, but there are bound to still be errors. Those are mine. Mine, in all their gloriousness!**

 **This time, the lemon is Dramione. Promise! But... don't try this at home, folks.**

* * *

It was a very nice day. Perfect for flying, Draco said, much to Hermione's reservations.

In the hangar, he noted her less-than-enthusiastic expression while he unlocked the plane door. He grinned and leaned against it. 'You wouldn't be nervous, now, Ms Granger?'

She crossed her arms. 'It's a rather small plane, Mr Malfoy.'

'Captain Malfoy,' he corrected.

'Not when you have a crew of one, consisting of you, it isn't.'

His grin grew bigger, and he headed lazily towards her. Wrapping his hands around her waist, he lifted her up. Taken by surprise, she wrapped her legs around his hips and looked down into his twinkling blue eyes.

'I don't take just anyone in my plane, you know.'

'How kind of you to favour me,' she laughed.

He kissed the hollow of her throat. 'I promise you'll be safe, love. I won't risk your life. Or mine, for that matter.'

She tilted her head back and felt his lips trail down her throat and over her collarbone. 'Okay,' she sighed, closing her eyes and feeling his breath on her body.

She felt him smile against her skin.

* * *

Hermione sat in the right-hand seat of the Baron and buckled in her seatbelt. It took a couple of attempts – her hands were a little shaky.

In the pilot's seat, Draco looked both as cool as a cucumber and sexily hot in his aviators and headset. He'd given her a headset too, and helped her adjust it. They could now communicate with each other without having to yell over the sound of the engines.

Speaking of which, both started smoothly, and Draco taxied to the end of the long grass-clipped strip of flat ground that served as his runway.

'Before we go, we do the TITS check,' he said, his face mostly straight.

Hermione indignantly crossed her arms over her breasts. 'Not now, you're not!'

He grinned. 'It's an acronym used for setting a navigation radio. T means 'tune in the correct frequency.' I means 'identify the non-directional beacon or combined radio navigation station for aircraft.' The second T means 'twist the omni bearing selector' and S means 'select the correct GPS or land-based radio navigation station.'

Hermione stared at him. 'The individual words make sense, but not the way you put them together.'

He grinned again. 'Here's hoping I don't have a heart attack while in the air and it'll be left up to you to land the plane safely.'

Her awe turned to horror. 'Don't even joke about such a thing!'

His laughter filled the cabin as the plane headed down the runway.

* * *

Okay.

Maybe he was right.

Maybe it was a little fun, soaring in the air in a small plane. Looking down at the little people (they were little, from five thousand feet above) and marvelling at the many different greens and blues of a British landscape in summer.

If she closed her eyes, she could pretend she was Karen Blixen, flying over the starkly beautiful blue, green and gold lands of Kenya, her lover Denys Finch Hatton at the controls of his bumble-bee-yellow plane. She smiled.

'Okay?' Draco asked.

Hermione turned to see his enquiring smile. 'Having an _Out of Africa_ moment,' she said sheepishly.

He didn't laugh, although she expected him to. 'I loved the plane in that movie,' he said. 'A 1929 de Havilland Gipsy Moth. I'd give my right nut to fly one.'

'I hope not. I like both your nuts where they are,' she laughed.

He took her hand and squeezed it.

* * *

At eight thousand feet, Draco said 'I'd like to try something.'

Something in the tone of his voice made her look back from the window to him. 'Please, no acrobatics,' she said nervously.

'No,' he smiled. But he still wondered how to start. 'You know the mile-high club, of course,' he began.

'The one I joined yesterday, thanks to you? I think I remember.'

He grinned, then sobered. 'Have you heard of the three-mile-high club?'

Hermione shook her head. 'You have sex in a plane three times?'

He laughed. 'Basically, it's having sex when you're at least three miles up in the air in an airless environment. There's no breathable air at that height, so in a plane like this, we'd have to wear oxygen masks to fly safely. If you have sex without them, the early stages of hypoxia make you feel like you're on a drunken high. The orgasms are incredible. So I've been told.'

She sat in her seat and tried to figure out how to answer.

'I don't want to pressure you,' he added. 'I'll challenge you, but I won't force you. Ever. If you say no, it's no.'

'Is it safe?' she eventually asked.

He was quiet. Then: 'It's rumoured that John F Kennedy Jr and his wife died this way.'*

She gasped.

'He may have forgotten to put his mask back on after the oxygen levels got too low. Or, more likely, he couldn't. When you start to run out of air, your brain becomes affected, which affects your judgement, decision-making ability and motor skills.'

'But you think you can prevent this from happening?'

'I can set the alarm on my watch for ten minutes to remind us to put the masks back on while I can still make rational decisions.'

Hermione thought back to something he said earlier. 'So I've been told.' 'Have you never done this before?'

He shook his head, his eyes behind his aviators impossible to see. 'But I'd like to. With you.'

She looked out the window again. From the day she met him, he'd shown her so many things – not just about sex, but what her own mind and body were capable of achieving. She'd surprised herself over and over again.

Setting a time limit to pressurise the cabin was a safety measure. Then again, not depressurising the cabin in the first place was a far better safety measure.

She looked at him slowly, from head to toe. In his jeans and t-shirt, he looked like an ordinary guy. But she knew that he was anything but.

Then she looked at her shoes. Half an hour ago she was reluctant to even get on the plane. Now she's considering having sex in an oxygen-deprived atmosphere.

Life with Draco certainly wouldn't be boring, that's for sure.

But that's another factor to consider – on the ground.

'What if you ignore the timer when it goes off?' she asked.

'It's a possibility,' he conceded. He looked at her. 'The one thing I can promise is that I don't want any harm come to you.'

She looked out of the window once more, thinking.

Then, biting her lip, she undid the buttons to her shirt.

Draco bared his teeth. 'God, yes. You beauty.'

* * *

The plane was a six-seater. There was more room behind the front seats to stretch out, but Hermione's anxiety levels soared at the thought of Draco being further away from the controls. So they decided that where they were sitting would suit them fine.

She wished she'd worn a dress. All she'd need to do was remove her panties, and that would be it. Watching Draco out of the corner of her eye, she slowly wriggled her linen capris past her hips, then pushed them down her legs and over her sandals. She put them on one of the seats behind her.

She ran her hands slowly up her smooth legs, ending at her hips by her panties. Hooking her thumbs under the lace, she lifted one cheeky bottom cheek to slide the material down; then the other. The panties lazily followed the path of her capris.

Draco's hands gripped the controls.

Next, she brought one leg up and placed her foot on her seat. She carefully undid the high-heeled sandal and slipped her foot free. It joined the growing collection of her clothing.

The second sandal followed the first.

Draco's jaw was clenched, fighting temptation. He adjusted himself.

She brought her heels up on the seat, to meet her thighs. Then one bare leg stretched out to massage Draco's erection through his jeans. He hissed in pleasure and frustration.

Leaving her leg lying across his lap and her foot in his crotch, she peeled her shirt down her arms and tossed it on to the seats behind her. Her bra, headset and sunglasses were all that were left. Idly, she let one bra strap slip down her tanned shoulder. Then the other. She arched her back so she could bring her arms underneath to undo the hooks, smiling when he swore to himself.

The bra went over her seat. Now she was nude. Her fingers crept towards her core while she closed her eyes and concentrated on what she could feel, and what she could hear.

Her fingertips brushed her clitoris, and she gasped at the sensation. She was expecting to be nervous about what they were going to do. She was, but the thrill of the rush made her sensitised and turned her on. She tracked her fingers lower and moaned when she encountered slick moisture between her legs.

She withdrew the fingers and slowly dragged them in a path down her left thigh. Draco could clearly see the slick wetness they left behind. He groaned. 'Let me see you.'

She swivelled in her seat and spread her legs for him. Two fingers, applied like a V, parted her lips – then they slipped deep into her pussy. She moaned out loud and bucked her hips.

'You're stunning,' he said. 'My mouth is actually watering, can you believe?'

The plane was at ten thousand feet. Draco set up the on-demand aviation oxygen equipment and showed Hermione how to put the mask on and communicate with the in-built microphone. Then he put his on.

Her heart lurched as she adjusted her mask. This is actually going to happen. Bloody hell.

He took the plane up to 16,000 feet and levelled off. He was rock-hard and his patience was starting to fray.

Hermione moved her legs under her and reached across to undo his belt and jeans. Pulling his erection out, she worked her hand up and down its length.

He ran a hand through her hair, concentrating on how good she made him feel. As he pulled back, he asked 'Are you ready, love?'

She swallowed and nodded and set aside her headset and sunglasses.

Draco activated the auto-pilot and set the timer on his watch. He pushed the plane's controls out of the way and pulled off his mask.

He held out a hand to her. Slightly shaking, she removed her mask and took his hand.

Hermione slung a leg over his hips and straddled him. His mouth caught one of her nipples before she could descend, and she moaned in need at the intensity of the hard pull on her flesh. 'Yes!' she exclaimed, grinding her soaking wet pussy hard against his cock.

In the airless cabin, both started to feel light-headed and uninhibited. Draco raised Hermione by her hips and slammed her down hard on his cock, while pulling at her breasts. She convulsed over his cock, coming over him in hard waves. He felt each fluttering movement of her core as individual movements, and closed his eyes in absolute rapture.

Desperate to retain the euphoric feeling, Hermione bounced up and down relentlessly on Draco's cock, biting her lip in a failed bid to try and stop herself from moaning and wondering how come the cabin was filled with the sound of people just like her, on the edge of coming.

Draco gripped her buttocks, trying to pull her further into his body. He couldn't get enough of this wild, beautiful woman. His orgasm began to spiral through his body.

They fucked each other hard enough to bruise – never close enough, wanting more and more. She'd come three times, she thought hazily; now she wanted to feel his cock pulse in her cunt as he gave in to his body. 'Drake, come now,' she ordered in a slurred voice.

He sped up, spacing out on the incredible sensation of her body gripping his cock. 'Mione…' he got out. 'Oh, Christ, gonna – FUCKING HELL!'

She came again as he ejaculated inside her, his eyes rolling in the back of his head as he experienced the most intense orgasm he's ever had. He held her shaking body as she writhed on him, near sobbing with ecstasy.

She slumped, burying her head in his still-clothed shoulder, breathing hard.

With effort, he put his shaking arms around her. 'I love you,' he blurted.

She didn't move or make a sound. He had no idea if she heard him.

The alarm on his watch rang. With difficulty, holding Hermione on his lap, he reached for his mask and put it on. Taking deep breaths of air, he pulled a drowsy Hermione up on his lap and helped her fit hers.

He slumped back in his seat, drained, with the naked body of a beautiful woman sprawled over him, safe in his arms.

* * *

 **Later that evening**

Blaise sat in his flat, looking at his phone. Tinder was usually the third app he looked at, after texts and emails. He looked at it now, scrolling aimlessly through the never-ending, always-changing list of women wanting 'friendship.' He occasionally stopped at a picture of a woman with blonde hair and full breasts before he admitted to himself that he was just going through the motions.

He brought up his very large address list and found Astoria's name. It was useful to have the contact numbers of crew on a stopover, in case something happened. He hovered over her number, then pressed 'text.'

He stared at the screen, the cursor winking merrily.

 _Tori,_

 _I'm really sorry about this afternoon. I said and did things I'm not proud of. If I've hurt you in any way, I'm incredibly sorry. Please let me know if you're okay. B._

He took a breath; then pressed 'send.'

He let the phone fall from his fingers onto his settee. He didn't hold out much hope of receiving a reply.

Standing up stiffly, he headed to the kitchen. No flying tomorrow; just classes.

He pulled a bottle of Ardbeg single malt from a shelf and grabbed a glass.

If he ended up getting the sack, he'll really miss the duty-free booze.

* * *

Astoria lay on her bed. She read Blaise's text on her phone. Over and over again.

Her face burned with shame.

Not because of the sex they had; although maybe should be. She'd never fucked anyone in a towering rage before. It was almost other-worldly.

No, it was because her selfish obsession with Draco put another man's reputation and career in danger.

She looked down at her body, shrouded in a Hello Kitty nightshirt.

Mum was a flight attendant too, before cancer carried her off to that big airplane in the sky. Her Dad may have been an airline Captain; Mum swore on a stack of bibles that he was, even though his name never made it as far as her birth certificate.

But Mum assured Astoria he was the hottest pilot around – and, she admitted one drunken evening when Astoria was sixteen, had the biggest cock of any pilot she knew. Much to Astoria's embarrassment.

'Your looks are all you'll have, Story,' Mum would often slur around a gin and tonic. 'Make the most of them.'

The ballet lessons, elocution lessons, hair and make-up lessons – they were Mum's way of preparing her for the realities of life, the only way she knew how. She went without; Astoria knew that. Mum constantly reminded her.

Adult Astoria found it easy to get what she wanted with a wink, a smile, a flash of cleavage or leg. Disappointments were rare, so when she encountered them, she didn't react very well.

Mum never told Astoria why she got pregnant in the first place. Was it a mistake? Or was it her goal to make a handsome, rich Captain marry her so she could raise a horde of little pilots and trolley dollies in a spacious house with a white picket fence and compulsory puppy?

Surely she had better aspirations in life than to raise a child all by herself on penurious wages or hand-outs - always scrimping, always saving, only finding something to smile about at the bottom of a glass of gin?

And yet, that's where Mum ended up. By getting what she wanted with a wink, a smile, a flash of cleavage or leg.

Astoria let the phone fall from her fingers onto the bed, and curled into a ball.

* * *

 **A/N: *The official cause of the plane crash was pilot disorientation/lack of visibility, among other things. Kennedy Jr wasn't qualified to fly planes on instruments only. The three-mile high club rumour is just a rumour, probably an unlikely one, considering his wife's sister was also a passenger.**

 **More soon! Thanks so much for reading.**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: The 'L' word has been said! Albeit at 16,000 feet in an airless environment… Still counts, right?**

 **But… this chapter is Blastoria, not Dramione. Just giving you fair warning. The curse of two having two plots to resolve, I'm afraid. This chapter takes care of the Blastoria plot. I guess, if you truly hate Blastoria or Astoria that much, you can skip this chapter.**

 **Dramione will return next chapter. And the 'L' word will be discussed. But I think it's best done without Blastoria distractions, which is why I've structured the story this way.**

 **The chapter's plenty dramatic, so I hope you'll enjoy it, regardless.**

 **I've been asked if the three-mile-high club is a concept that exists outside of my imagination. Anonymous Airline Personnel tell me that they know people who have done it, but not by that name. Well – there's a name for it now!**

* * *

 **The next morning**

Concentrating on his computer monitor with a pen clamped between his teeth, Harry missed the timid knock on his open door the first time. So, Astoria cleared her throat and knocked again.

Harry looked up and saw the perfectly-uniformed young woman standing uncertainly by his door. He took the pen from his mouth. 'Oh! Astoria! Sorry, I didn't see you there. Please, come in.'

He stood while Astoria closed the door and sat gingerly in a chair opposite him; then he sat down again. 'Is everything okay?'

She looked at her hands, clenched together in a knot on her lap, then up at Harry. 'Um…' She took a fortifying breath.

He nodded encouragingly.

'I want to drop the complaint against Blaise Zabini,' she blurted. 'Please. It's not too late, is it?'

Harry blinked. 'Ah, no, it's not too late,' he said neutrally. 'I'd be happy to set that in motion, but I need to be certain that your reasons for doing so are genuinely your own. That no-one's forcing you into a retraction.'

'No! No, definitely not. This is my decision,' she said firmly. The rims of her eyes were red, Harry noted. 'I made a mistake. And I lied.' Her cheeks red, she focussed on her clenched hands again.

'Can you tell me about it?' Harry asked gently. He pushed a box of tissues towards her. Just in case.

'I was angry at him,' she whispered. 'I honestly thought we'd – well… slept together that night. Then blanked me, a little later on. I was angry. I felt used. I also wanted someone else to… notice me, and, so… I thought 'two birds, one stone.' I told Captain Malfoy that Blaise sexually assaulted me, thinking that he'd feel sorry for me and' – she gulped, and tears slowly crept down her cheeks.

Harry plucked a couple of tissues and held them out to her. She took them with a whispered 'thank you'. She dabbed at her tears.

'I'd had way too much to drink that night,' she continued. 'Blaise was a perfect gentleman. He looked after me. And I repaid him by…'

Oh, God, she cringed. Saying it out loud made it sound a million times worse.

She looked up. 'We never slept together,' she admitted miserably. 'I dreamt it. And then everything…' she gulped hard. 'I want it to just go away,' she said, ashamed.

Harry nodded slowly. 'I know that was hard for you to say,' said gently. 'Well done for accepting responsibility.'

She snorted in an unladylike manner. 'Finally, you mean.'

He shrugged. 'Better late than never. Believe me.'

'So you'll withdraw the complaint, then?'

'If you're sure that's what you want?'

'Yes, definitely,' she said fervently.

'Then consider it done.'

She gave him a wobbly smile. 'Thanks, Harry.'

'No worries. I'll get the paperwork started this morning.'

She nodded. 'So, Blaise's reputation will be fixed, then? Once the paperwork's done, I mean. Will that take long?'

Harry, who'd been making a note in his diary, looked up at her with an odd look on his face. 'What do you mean, exactly?'

'Well, people have heard, somehow, about the complaint – I swear to God, I never told a soul, but it was like everyone knew before I'd even started on ground duties – and people are treating him really horribly. Like he's a criminal. They're making horrible racist comments and everything.'

Harry's eyebrows drifted upwards. 'That's very disappointing to hear.'

'Yeah, I'll say.'

He sighed. 'I'm sorry to say, though, that there's nothing the airline can do.'

At first, she thought she had misheard. But the look on Harry's face told her she hadn't.

Her face turned white. 'What? Why not?' she demanded in a high voice that cracked at the end.

'These complaints are _supposed_ to be kept confidential,' Harry replied. 'Only a select number of people with a direct involvement in either the incident or the investigation are supposed to know. I've heard this airline employs a lot of loose lips, and unfortunately, Blaise has become the victim of mass poor judgement. However, even tracing where the leak started would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack. We can't publicly censure everyone about their treatment of Blaise because we'd be breaching his privacy. And yours.'

'I don't care about mine,' she said bitterly. 'So, what you're saying is even though the complaint's dropped, Blaise could still be treated like a leper for something he never did?'

The tears were coming back, and she furiously tried to blink them away.

Harry nodded sadly. 'In the short-term, I'm afraid so. In the long-term, I'm going to turn Human Resources upside down and get to the bottom of this culture of gossip and unprofessionalism. But that'll take a while.'

Astoria nodded politely, but inside, she was outraged. And terrified. This isn't acceptable. This isn't enough!

'All right,' she said slowly. She took a deep breath in, then out. She thanked him, rose on shaky legs, and left his office.

* * *

Blaise was standing by one of the training centre's windows that overlooked the airline's flouncy gardens, blowing gently on his coffee to cool it. His head felt a little thick from last night. Colleagues milled about in groups in two or three, chatting, laughing and either ignoring him or casting surreptitious glances his way. No-one approached to say hi.

Except for one clot called Cormac McClaggen.

'Hello, son!' he brayed, clapping Blaise on the shoulder. His coffee nearly decorated the window. 'Haven't seen you in a while!'

Blaise bared his teeth. 'Well, here I am.'

'Right you are, son, right you are! I say, what bad luck with that Greengrass bird, eh?'

Blaise pinched the bridge of his nose. Cormac had two voice controls: Off and Loud. Consequently, some of his colleagues were edging closer.

Cormac rambled on, oblivious to Blaise's irritation. 'Fit bird, that Greengrass,' he said in a parody of confidentiality. 'Been on some flights with her. Man, her tits!' he held his hands out in front of his chest to demonstrate what he thought was their size.

Blaise blinked.

'Yeah, bet she'd be quite the rocket in bed,' Cormac droned.

Blaise's free hand curled into a fist.

Luckily for Cormac, the instructor was ready to get on with things and called the class together.

* * *

Astoria walked slowly through the open-plan office, thinking hard. Blaise will officially be off the hook, but big bloody deal.

I've made such an almighty fuck-up.

She noticed that a lot of the desks were empty. 'Where is everyone?' she asked a girl she recognised vaguely from her Induction training a few years ago.

The girl shrugged, stirring a cup of tea. 'Team-building exercise.' She noted Astoria's red, puffy eyes. 'You all right?'

'Oh, yeah,' Astoria replied airily. 'Bloody allergies. There's something hideous growing near my flat.' Then: 'Do you mind if I log on to one of the computers? To check my email?'

The girl shrugged again. 'Fill yer boots, luv.'

Astoria sat at a desk, careful not to dislodge any of the items on it, never mind that they looked like they were deposited by a hurricane. She logged on to the computer, struggling for a bit to remember her password, then brought up the airline's email programme.

In the TO: box, she entered Blaise's name. Then she hesitated; deleted it, and replaced it with the distribution list for the entire airline. Thousands upon thousands of names, all over the world.

In the CC: box, she entered Theo's name, along with Harry's. Theo was on a flight, however, so he wouldn't see it for hours to come.

In the SUBJECT: box: she wrote 'First Officer Zabini.'

 _Everyone,_

 _I'm sending this email to put the record straight_.

 _I laid a complaint, in confidence, about First Officer Zabini. I don't need to say what it was about because it seems that the entire airline knows about it, anyway. But the complaint was wrong. I made a mistake; and then, to make things worse, I lied. But now it's withdrawn._

 _What I did to First Officer Zabini was unspeakable. I cried wolf for a ridiculous reason without thinking what the consequences would be, and now he's paying the price by having to put up with your prejudice and silent accusations._

 _I want you all to stop it. He doesn't deserve it._

 _He is one of the kindest, most responsible, cheerful, hard-working people I've ever worked with. It was an honour to work with him._

 _I can't find the words to describe how sorry I am for putting his reputation and his career at risk. It is all, completely all, my fault. Not his._

 _I'm incredibly ashamed of myself. Not because of all of you. I don't care what you think of me. But because of what I did to him, and for dragging other people into this mess._

 _Mr Nott and Mr Potter, please accept this email as my resignation. Effective immediately, if possible._

 _Thank you._

 _Astoria Greengrass._

She carefully checked the text for spelling and grammar, took a breath, and clicked 'send.'

That's all I can do.

She logged off the computer and walked away.

* * *

Blaise was half-listening to the instructor drone on while doodling in his workbook when Cormac, who was sitting nearby, started hissing like a flat tyre.

Blaise shifted his eyes sideways to the idiot.

Discreetly, Cormac held his phone in one hand and pointed to it with the other. Rather frantically.

Frowning, Blaise pulled out his own phone, then looked at Cormac with a raised eyebrow.

'Email,' Cormac mouthed silently. Praise God, a miracle happened.

Blaise set his phone on his thigh and brought up his work email app.

He recognised the email Cormac was in a flap about. The one from 'Greengrass, Astoria.'

About him.

* * *

Blaise lurched to his feet unsteadily, still staring at his phone in disbelief. Every set of eyes in the classroom swivelled to him.

'Something the matter, Mr Zabini?' the instructor asked.

'Ah… um, yeah, an emergency,' he babbled, cramming his books into his case and grabbing his jacket and hat. 'Really sorry.'

'These things can't be helped,' the instructor said stiffly. 'Just mind that you complete the required assignment by no later than' –

BANG!

The door to the classroom closed on Blaise's retreating form.

'the twentieth of the month,' the instructor sighed.

* * *

In the corridor, Blaise fired off a text to Astoria.

 _I saw your email. I need to see you. We really need to talk. B._

As he hurtled around a corner, he narrowly missed colliding with Harry, who seemed to be in a hurry of his own.

'Sorry, man,' Blaise said distractedly. 'Have you seen Astoria recently?'

Harry waved off Blaise's apology. 'As a matter of fact, I'm trying to find her myself,' he admitted. 'She was in the open-plan sector outside my office, but left recently. I was heading to Reception to see if she'd gone past.'

'I'll come with you.'

* * *

Harry's hunch proved to be correct. Both receptionists saw her leave through the main doors, but even though they called out, she didn't respond, one said huffily.

Harry peered at her, tamping down his irritation at their self-centredness. 'Did she look upset?' he asked mildly.

They looked at each other and shrugged. Their assumption that they were snubbed by the hottest source of gossip in town was more important to them than someone else's feelings. But they quickly moved on. Now they were both simpering at recently–vindicated Blaise, fluttering their eyelashes at him.

Blaise didn't even spare them a look. 'I think I know where she might be,' he told Harry.

'Okay. If you find her, let her know from me there are lots of options we can talk about. I'll email her.'

Blaise nodded. 'I will. Cheers.' He headed out the door.

Harry turned his green gaze to the receptionists. 'Ladies,' he smiled, 'you are just the people I need for a special project.'

They preened. 'What's it about?' one asked excitedly.

'You two will be helping my team develop an online training module about racial, gender and religious tolerance in the workplace.' He grinned ferally. 'Your manager will be notified.'

He sauntered back to his office, leaving two horrified receptionists in his wake.

* * *

Blaise guessed that Astoria was heading to the train station, and when he put on a burst of speed in that direction, he found, to his relief, that he'd guessed right. She made a lonely figure, clad in the airline's teal and light-grey uniform, standing out among a small tide of businesspeople in dark greys, blacks and navy-blues.

She jumped when he called her name, but didn't stop. In fact, she sped up.

Undaunted, he kept going until he managed to leap directly into her path. She stopped, but the wild look in her tear-reddened eyes told him she was on the hunt for an escape. He put his hand on her arm to circumvent her.

'Hey,' he said gently. 'I was calling you, back there.'

Her eyes didn't go higher than his tie. 'Oh. Sorry.' She swallowed and gripped her handbag.

Now he was here, causing a minor disruption in the middle of the station's pedestrian traffic flow, he realised that he hadn't figured out what he wanted to say to her. Well, there were things he wanted to say, but where to begin? And what was appropriate to be told in the middle of a train station?

'I saw your email,' he started.

She slumped. Her eyes now focussed on his knees.

He sighed. 'Tori, please look at me.'

She did. Very slowly. He saw a fresh line of tears on her cheeks, and he slowly let go of her arm and brushed them away with his thumb. Her eyes fluttered shut for a nanosecond. Maybe he imagined it, but he could have sworn she leaned slightly in to his hand.

'I don't understand,' he continued quietly. 'You wrote that you made a mistake…'

Astoria trembled. 'I can't talk about it here,' she whispered, gesturing around her.

True. 'Come home with me,' he suggested. 'We'll have peace and quiet.'

She shook her head before he finished speaking.

He put on his winning grin. 'I'll make you some hot chocolate,' he wheedled. 'Just like my Nana makes. Best in the East End.'

She considered his proposal, and his grin. A pale smile briefly crossed her face before she silently nodded.

'Excellent.' Inwardly, Blaise was relieved. He directed her to his platform.

* * *

Astoria hadn't been in Blaise's flat – more accurately, an apartment - before. It was a big step up from the thin-ceilinged flat that she lived in – although she guessed it wouldn't be for much longer unless she found another job. It was outfitted in neutral taupe and grey, with chrome this, glass that and leather something else. Odd splashes of colour, like a turquoise bowl or blood-red vase, added a bit of life.

Blaise saw her looking around and smiled. 'Bit like a hotel room, eh.'

'Well…' she shrugged, trying to find something positive to say. 'Yeah,' she admitted. She followed him into the kitchen and set her handbag carefully on the chair next to her at the breakfast bar. She removed her teal side cap and added it to the bag.

'It came furnished,' he said, pulling out a saucepan and putting it on the gas hob before undoing his tie and slinging it over the knob of a nearby door. 'I don't really care how it looks. What matters to me are the people in it.'

Astoria nodded. At least it was a safe topic of conversation. 'Do you have flatmates?' she asked politely.

'Nah,' he said, opening the fridge to get milk. 'It's been me, myself and I since Corinne moved out.'

'Was she a previous flatmate?'

Blaise's dark eyes settled calmly on her. 'Ex-partner. Ex-fiancée, to be technical.'

Astoria looked up, surprised, and blushed when she met his gaze. 'I'm sorry,' she said hopelessly.

He shrugged, then smiled. 'Water under the bridge.'

He placed what looked like a dizzying array of ingredients for hot chocolate on the breakfast bar and grabbed a bowl from a cupboard underneath. 'She wanted me to get out of the aviation industry. Do something in business with her old man. Guess I never realised how serious she was about it.' He started grating chocolate into the bowl. 'Guess she never realised how serious I was about aviation.'

'Oh,' she replied helplessly. Her eyes danced over the line of ingredients. She sat up a little straighter. 'Is that rum? And chilli?'

He grinned. 'Couldn't possibly say. Nana would flog me for giving a family recipe away.'

She rested her head on her hand and quietly watched him cook.

* * *

Astoria took another sip of the hot chocolate. God, it was good. And comforting. And possibly sleep-inducing. She felt tired. 'Your Nana is a national treasure,' she commented.

Blaise laughed. 'She'd love being called that.'

Initially, she sat on the settee that was opposite to the one he sat on, but at his raised 'are you kidding me?' eyebrow, she got up and headed around the coffee table to sit stiffly next to him. With air between them.

'You wanted to know why I said I made a mistake,' she said bluntly.

Blaise nodded, watching her.

She let out a shaky breath. 'After… what happened yesterday, I realised that we hadn't had sex before. I must have had a really vivid, alcohol-influenced dream… and thought it was real.' She trailed off.

'I've had those,' he said mildly, nodding.

She raised her head. Blaise noticed that her cheeks were burning red. 'Is that it?' she asked incredulously.

'Huh? Is what it?'

'I've just told you about the pathetic reason why your career's been on the chopping block the last few days, and all you have to say is 'I've had those?''

'Well, it's true! I have!'

Astoria jumped up. 'I accused you of everything but rape!' she cried. She paced to the balcony's sliding doors and back, feeling coiled up tight, like a spring. 'You have the full story now! Isn't it incredibly pathetic?'

Blaise stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankles. 'I agree with you there. It is.'

She turned on him despairingly. 'Why are you just sitting there, then? Why aren't you yelling and carrying on like yesterday?' she shrieked.

He stood up and ambled slowly to her, his hands in his pockets. Deceptively casual. 'I've finished being mad at you,' he said.

'I was wrong, I'm a liar and I'm a vindictive bitch!'

He sighed. 'Tori. If you're trying to get me mad in order to punish yourself, you'll be here for a long time. It takes a lot to get me angry, especially to yesterday's level. Right now, you've got me at 'mildly annoyed,' and you'll just have to be happy with that.'

'But how can you' –

'Tori.' This time his voice was harder, and she bit her lip. 'You said you accused me of everything but rape, right?'

She nodded dumbly.

'Yeah, well, yesterday, I nearly did.'

Her eyes shot up to his. 'Don't be ridiculous. You didn't.'

'I was on the verge of losing all control,' he said bitterly. 'I was incredibly close. I don't think you realise how close. My old man beat up my Ma for years. Whenever she'd serve us kids breakfast with another black eye or bruised whatever, I promised myself I'd never touch a woman in anger. No matter what.' His eyes were bleak. 'Now look what I've done.'

Astoria's anger and self-pity drained from of her. But what replaced it felt far, far worse.

'I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry for what I did yesterday,' he whispered. 'That's why I wanted to talk to you. I'm not angry at you anymore, love. But I feel really bad about the way I treated you. I hope you'll be able to forgive me. One day.'

She looked at him, standing tall in his uniform, a symbol of everything he'd worked so hard to achieve. The man inside the uniform was another Blaise altogether. She worked and socialised with cheerful, chipper, popular Blaise. She had sex with a passionately angry Blaise. In front of her stood defeated, guilty Blaise.

It was probably time for her to pull her head out of her arse and start thinking about other people.

She slowly walked to him, until she was close enough to smell his cologne. It made the pit of her stomach feel tingly. She took his hand, and looked at the contrasting colours their skin made.

'I'll forgive you,' she said. 'If you forgive me.'

They stood in silence. Eventually, Blaise's hand tightened around hers, and he drew her in to his body.

Surrounded by his body, Astoria felt safe. And warm. And tired.

* * *

Drowsily, Astoria opened one eye, then the other. She felt warm and relaxed, but at the same time disoriented and uncomfortable. Her pillow was hard, but warm, and it smelled delicious. Like Blaise's –

She lurched up. She was on Blaise's settee. Her pillow was Blaise himself.

He paused the game he'd been playing, silently and one-handed, on his phone. 'Sleeping Beauty awakes,' he smirked.

She gingerly felt her hair, and realised, with horror, that some of her make-up had taken up residence on his shirt. 'Oh, God, I'm sorry,' she said guiltily.

He looked down at the stain and shrugged. 'I've had worse,' he said. He stood up and unbuttoned his shirt. 'Time to get changed, anyway, I reckon.' Whistling, he headed through a doorway.

Astoria followed him, searching for a bathroom where she could assess the damage to her appearance. Her perfect bun was totalled, so she drew the pins and elastic band out and finger-combed her long hair. She wiped off most of her heavy make-up with tissues, but couldn't be bothered re-applying it.

Back in the hall, movement at the end caught the corner of her eye. It was Blaise, or, rather, Blaise's image in a full-length mirror, pulling on some jeans. His chest was bare.

Feeling guiltily vouyeurish, she watched his body move as he pulled the jeans on, then fastened and belted them. He reached out of sight for a t-shirt and shrugged it on. It was tight. He had the body to carry it off, no worries there. No wonder he had so much success with women.

She bit her lip. Especially considering his skill in bed.

Goosebumps rose on her arms, and she rubbed them. She looked away.

'Hey.'

She jumped, and looked guiltily back. 'I, uh, just used' –

'No worries,' he smiled, heading down the hallway to her. 'Make yourself at home.'

Would you say that if you knew what I wanted to do to you right now? she wondered.

He held out a hand and lifted a lock of her hair, letting it run through his fingers. 'Feels so nice,' he whispered. Then he smiled, abashed. 'Sorry.'

'Do you prefer it up or down?' she asked.

He thought. 'When it's up, you look flawless, professional. Unattainable. Beautiful. When it's down, you look natural. Carefree, and pretty. So… I prefer down.'

She quirked her brows. 'Beautiful is considered to be better than pretty.'

'Not to me,' he said in a low voice. ''Pretty' is something I can touch. Tease. Play with.' His hand crept out again and he gently brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers. Her heart banged almost painfully against her ribs, and she took the plunge, looking finally into his eyes.

Oh.

My God.

Standing on her tip-toes, she reached up and slowly laid a finger on his lips, exploring their shape and feel.

'Tori,' he whispered, and her eyes closed at the sound. 'I want to make yesterday up to you.'

'I' – she swallowed. 'I want that more than anything.'

He let out a breath, lowered his head and kissed her. Slowly. Gently. Perfectly.

* * *

Astoria met another new Blaise. She got to know him over the rest of the day and well into the night. This Blaise idolised her body, touching every part of it with his fingers, lips and tongue. Her hair fascinated him. He ran his fingers through it, brushed it gently off her face, and wrapped his hand around it when he slid into her body from behind, or when she pulled him into her mouth.

He was slow, gentle and wondrous. He set her body alight with a gentle flame that slowly grew into unbearable lust. 'Don't hold yourself back,' she begged, as he leaned over her, his lips barely separated from hers.

'I'm not, love,' he replied. Then he surged into her body.

True to his word, he made up for the orgasms he denied her yesterday, making her come almost endlessly with his mouth, fingers or cock.

But what she loved the most was watching his beautiful face. How it changed as he discovered something new about her. Or when he experienced her touch. Even when they were lying together, not moving, not talking – she loved the way his eyes roamed slowly over her. Like she was special.

'You are,' he said, his eyes warm on her skin. 'I think you're special, love.'

She hadn't even realised she'd spoken out loud.

She hugged him tight. Finally, the tears that fell onto his chest were happy ones.

* * *

 **Back to Dramione, folks! Kudos for making it this far.**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Overwhelmed, am I, at the really positive feedback for chapter 13! I psyched myself into receiving a roasting over a one hundred percent Blastoria chapter, and what do you readers do? You really enjoy it! Thank you, everyone.**

* * *

Draco's eyebrows both went up when he read the email on his phone. He passed it to Hermione.

She squirmed a little as she read Astoria's message and frowned at the source of her distraction, which happened to be a gorgeous blonde, blue-eyed male who was applying his tongue to one of her breasts.

She sped-read to the end and dropped the phone on the bed, just as his lips closed around her nipple. 'Wow,' she breathed.

'Thank you.'

'Not you,' she smirked. 'That was extremely brave of Astoria.'

'Yeah,' he agreed. 'To be honest, I didn't think she was capable of making such a gesture. I'm happy that I was wrong.'

'I'd have to ban you from Court, you know,' she murmured. 'You'd be much too distracting for me to get any work done.'

'You mean I can't sit under your table and eat you out?'

She snorted. 'How would you like it if I contorted myself between your legs on the flight deck of a plane and gave you a blow job?'

He sighed happily. 'My ultimate dream. The autopilot won't mind.'

She giggled, then moaned. 'Your First Officer might,' she murmured.

'He'd probably be cool with it.'

She gasped. He was definitely too distracting by half. 'What percentage of an average flight do pilots use autopilot for, anyway?'

He looked up. 'Ninety-five to ninety-nine percent.'

She sat up in shock. 'What the hell?'

He smirked. 'Can I take a photo of your expression?'

'No, you bloody well can not! What on earth do you get paid for?'

He raised a blonde eyebrow. 'Do you really want me to tell you?'

She thought back to their jaunt in the Baron, when he tried to explain what a TITS check was. She pursed her lips. 'Er, no, thank you. I'll assume it's terribly important stuff.'

'Good girl.' Suddenly, he dropped south, catching Hermione unawares.

'Don't you think it's time we got up oh my GOD!' she squealed, just as his lips closed on her clitoris.

He smiled. She might like to stay in bed a little longer.

* * *

While Draco was in the shower, Hermione accessed the Kaplan QLTS website and brought up the page on sitting the Qualified Lawyers Transfer Scheme. There was a deadline coming up in a few weeks that she had to register by if she wanted to sit the assessment. She made a note of it on her phone and closed down the page.

She propped her head in her hands and thought.

Moving to a new country… it's such a big step. Especially without work lined up.

On the other hand, lots of people come from overseas to work as solicitors in the UK. She herself knew of a couple of people from Vancouver who came over. One worked in London.

Where would she live?

Draco would insist she live with him.

But is that wise? So soon?

He said he loved her. She was pretty sure of it.

She was too exhausted to do more than breathe at the time, and fell asleep in the plane on the way home. By the time she felt human again, she wondered if she had imagined it, and she was too hesitant to raise it with him. He hadn't brought it up again.

She sighed and leaned back in the chair.

She needed someone to talk to.

* * *

Isabelle and Petunia sat in the manor's kitchen, pondering Hermione's dilemmas.

'Well, darling,' Isabelle chirped, 'I hardly know where to begin! But when in doubt, I always start with the juiciest bit first. Draco told you he loved you?'

'I'm almost certain, yes.'

Isabelle raised a delicate eyebrow. ''Almost certain?' Did he stutter when trying to say the words?' She laughed. 'How deliciously endearing!'

'No,' Hermione grinned, 'we were up in his plane. I was, um, distracted. By the noise.'

Isabelle shrugged. 'Well, check with him!'

Hermione grimaced into her tea. 'How?'

'Easy! Watch me!' Isabelle leaned down into Petunia's soulful eyes. 'Draco, darling, in the plane I thought you told me that you loved me, but I couldn't hear you very well. Is it true?'

Petunia yawned.

Whew!' Isabelle screwed up her nose at the influx of doggy breath.

Hermione laughed. 'Very pragmatic.'

'Never a good idea to be indirect with the boys, darling.'

'But all this time's passed.'

'Only more time will pass unless you get on with it now.' Isabelle pointed out.

Hermione conceded.

'Excellent!' Isabelle beamed. 'What's next?'

'Where I would live if I moved over. I love him too, but my gut tells me it's too soon to live together.'

'I agree with you,' Isabelle said firmly. 'Acting in haste and repenting in leisure sounds like a rather apt description of our marriage. Find a flat near where you'll be working – once you find work – and shag his brains out on certain evenings or on the weekends. When he's home. Review the situation in a few months' time.'

When he's home.

Hermione put her tea cup down and looked at it pensively.

'What's up, doll?'

Hermione bit her lip. 'His job.'

'Ah. All the travelling to different countries, surrounded by beautiful women, having an itch that desperately needs scratching, ease of finding anonymous hook-ups… that sort of thing?'

Hermione swallowed and nodded.

Isabelle pulled a biscuit of its pack. 'Can't help you there, I'm afraid, love,' she said sympathetically. 'You need to trust him. If there's any doubt in your heart, then…'

She crunched her biscuit.

Hermione thought back to her conversation with Draco the afternoon she met Isabelle. He said he'd changed. She believed him.

So, why is doubt creeping in now? Is it nerves from uprooting my life and trucking it over here, or is it something else?

'A pity we can't test his resolve,' Hermione said half-jokingly.

Isabelle agreed. 'Someone should develop an app for that.'

Her gaze fell on the kitchen's immense fridge, where an invitation was flapping slowly in a breeze let in by the open windows. She sat up straight. 'Actually…' she looked at Hermione craftily.

She was instantly on the alert. 'What?' she asked suspiciously.

'There might be a way to do it. A bit convoluted, of course, but that's always the way with these things, darling.'

'Er, you're not going to throw yourself at him, are you? I mean, I appreciate the sacrifice, but' -

Isabelle laughed. 'Lord, no! I've got my eye on a certain someone, who, with luck, will be at this event on Saturday.' She took down the invitation from the fridge and passed it over to Hermione. 'Here's what I suggest…'

* * *

The plan sounded plausible in Isabelle's kitchen, but Hermione's old friend Doubt joined her on the way back to the hangar.

He'll never go for it.

But if he does, I hope he'll forgive me afterwards.

* * *

She found Draco in his study with his headphones on, concentrating on his monitor. She tiptoed over to the desk and smirked when she saw he was playing a war RPG.

He took off the headphones and smiled. 'Hey, beautiful.'

'Working hard?' she grinned, leaning on a corner of his still-messy desk to kiss him.

'I only just started it, I swear,' he protested with innocent eyes. 'How was coffee with Izzy?'

'Great,' she replied. 'In fact, she's invited us to come along to an event that one of the locals is having at their manor on Saturday. A summer solstice-cum-fundraising racket for the terribly deprived children of somewhere.'

He rolled his eyes and pretended to stick his finger down his throat.

She gave him a friendly shove. 'Isabelle says the locals ask after you all the time but you never go to these things.'

'Yeah, with good reason.'

'Oh, well,' she said lightly. 'I would have quite liked to have popped along, to see how the other half live.'

'I'm sure Izzy would love to take you with her.'

Gah. Irritating man. She pulled a face. 'She's got her eye on someone. I'm afraid I'd end up being a third wheel.' She pouted. 'With no-one to talk to.'

Draco smirked. 'I know what you're trying to do.'

'What?' Hermione asked, alarmed.

He smiled at her. 'We'll go together. Sound good?'

Oh, thank God. 'Sounds great!' she grinned, leaning over to kiss him. 'Um, but there's one little problem…'

'I can't imagine what it would be,' he commented cynically.

'No dress,' she said dolefully. 'I'll need to go shopping.'

His eyes gleamed. 'Dress shopping, you say? In London?'

'Probably. Why?'

'Accompanying women on shopping trips is a little hobby of mine,' he said, getting up from his chair and drawing Hermione into his arms.

She looked at him, astounded. 'You've got to be joking.'

He laughed. 'I like watching women try clothes on. I imagine how they'll look as they fall from their naked body and pool on the floor.'

She shook her head in disbelief. This man can't be for real.

'Are you offering to carry my bags then?' she asked, standing up on tip-toes.

He kissed her slowly. 'I would be honoured. And horny.'

She pressed up against his jeans. 'You're horny now,' she grinned.

'Almost a permanent condition with you around.'

They kissed hungrily.

'Where haven't we done it yet?' she whispered.

'In here.'

She glanced at his bomb-site of a desk. 'Not until you clean that up!'

He groaned. 'What about the kitchen?' he suggested instead.

'Good idea.'

* * *

Hermione learned first-hand that marble kitchen benches are cold on bare skin. She yelped as Draco picked her up and placed her on the kitchen island, laying her naked body on the surface so he could part her legs and drink from her body. But either her body quickly accommodated to the marble, or it accommodated to her, because within seconds she was far beyond caring about feeling cold. She just leant on her elbows and watched the fall of his blonde hair over his forehead as he speared his tongue in and around her pussy.

She felt her body tingle and build in heat and she collapsed back against the marble surface again, staring up at the ceiling and wondering how the hell did she get so lucky. Her thighs started to tremble – a sign Draco knew meant that she was close to coming. Moaning, Hermione clutched his hair on her fist and ground his face hard into her cunt, something she'd never done before, but she needed it, needed him, so badly. Excited, Draco lashed at her clitoris with his tongue before working two fingers into her wet channel.

Hermione's orgasm almost came out of nowhere, at a speed and intensity that nearly had her bouncing off the bench. She cried out in agonising bliss as her orgasm tore through her body, and she cried out 'Oh my God, I love' –

Shocked, she abruptly sat up and covered her mouth with her hand.

Concerned, Draco left the apex of her legs and stood up. 'What's wrong?' he asked. His eyes widened. 'Did I hurt you?'

She shook her head and tried to smile. 'I'm fine.' She took a breath and bravely met his deep blue eyes. Come on! she berated herself. He said it; you can say it. 'I…'

Oh, God.

'I wanted to say that I love you.'

She finished the last word on a whisper and looked down at – oh Lord, such nakedness everywhere. She pressed cool fingers to her heated cheeks.

Draco stilled.

When she heard no response, Hermione cringed. I must have misheard him on the plane, she thought, humiliated. She closed her eyes. 'I know it's really early days, but' –

Two strong, warm arms wrapped around her body and pulled her in tight against his. 'Who cares about how many days it's been?' he whispered into her hair. 'I love you, too. I told you on the plane, but I wasn't sure if you heard…'

'I wasn't sure I heard it either, to be honest,' she smiled.

'Wow.' Draco grinned and gathered up her curls, tilting her face so they could kiss. 'We have a few things to talk about.'

She smiled into his warm chest. 'True.'

Suddenly, she found herself scooped into Draco's arms and carried out of the kitchen. 'Where are we going?' she asked, confused.

He headed to the master bedroom and laid her down on the bed. Their bed, shortly, if he had anything to do with it. 'It didn't feel right to shag each other on the kitchen bench like oversexed adolescents,' he smirked.

'Speak for yourself,' she grinned. 'I was a good little adolescent. But then I did have a powerful horse between my legs.'

He kissed the tip of her nose. 'I felt we should celebrate this moment with something a little more adult.' He kissed her throat. 'But if you want to indulge a teenage fantasy, I'm more than happy to re-start proceedings in the kitchen.'

She moaned and arched her back as he drew her nipple into his mouth. 'What, sorry?' she stammered.

He smirked. 'Never mind.' He climbed up her body and straddled her shoulders. He fed his hard, hot erection into her open, willing mouth.

'Take it all, love,' he whispered.

* * *

On her back, Hermione swallowed inch after inch of his cock, bringing up a hand to control his pace.

'Don't use your hands,' he commanded.

She froze; and he stopped moving. He waited for her, saying nothing.

She slowly relaxed her jaw and took more of him in.

'Good girl,' he whispered, pressing a bit more of his cock into her mouth.

He began to stroke in and out of her mouth, careful not to overshoot into her throat – still a bridge too far for Hermione in this position. She keenly sucked and swallowed around his shaft, looking, in silence, up at him.

'Touch yourself while you take my cock, love,' he said in a low voice. 'I want you to come while you swallow me.'

Raw need jolted through her. Shakily, she snaked her hand down her body to the juncture between her legs. She moaned around his cock when she touched her wet folds. The vibration from her mouth and tongue resonated around Draco's cock and he moaned in time with her.

Hermione slapped her fingers against her clitoris and lips, and Draco heard the slick of wet flesh meeting. He smirked, sinking just another fraction of an inch into her hungry mouth. 'You're soaking wet, aren't you love?' he asked. 'I can tell without even looking at you. There are a number of things I love about you, but the least important thing of all is how your cunt feels when I slide my cock into you. The heat, the slickness, the tightness.'

He swallowed and concentrated on her mouth. His orgasm was creeping up on him and he was determined to maintain control.

'And do you know what, Hermione?' he asked, looking down at her lovely face, fellating him. 'I love, absolutely fucking love, being inside you.'

Hermione's second hand joined the one already between her legs and she masturbated herself hard. She was on the edge of coming just to this man's voice, so close. Saliva spilled from her mouth as she accepted his thrusts.

'You're going to come soon, aren't you, love?' he asked, gripping the headboard in order to prevent him from gripping her hair and fucking her mouth until he exploded down her throat. 'Use the safe signal just before you do.'

Oh, fuck, thought Hermione crazily, it won't be long. With one hand frantically stimulating her clitoris, she plunged her fingers into her cunt, fucking herself as hard and as fast as she could.

'Yesss, fuck yes, that sounds so good,' Draco groaned.

She yanked her drenched fingers out of her pussy and quickly slapped her hand three times on the bed.

Draco withdrew from her mouth just as the pressure on her clitoris became exquisitely unbearable. She took a large breath and screamed as she came, her body bucking wildly on the bed to her hand.

Draco scooted back down the bed, stroking his cock hard. He closed his eyes and swore out loud as he ejaculated over his lover's full, creamy breasts.

They held each other's gaze as their breathing subsided.

Hermione glanced at breasts, now decorated with pearl beads of Draco's come. 'Can we try champagne next time?' she grinned.

His eyes gleamed. 'Now that is a brilliant idea.'


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Shopping, Draco Malfoy-style!**

* * *

The following day, Draco took Hermione into London to go shopping. According to Izzy, something like a cocktail dress was called for. Hermione dutifully relayed the information to her sexy guide, and he headed for the parts of the city where cocktail dresses grew on trees, metaphorically speaking.

She would have continued walking past the first shop if Draco hadn't grabbed her arm.

She looked around in bewilderment. 'Why have we stopped here?'

'Because this shop sells cocktail dresses.'

She looked at the shopfront. If the store's famous one-word name hadn't given it away, the imposing lacquered red door next to a glass window that displayed nothing but a nude mannequin hideously contorted around a single potted bonsai certainly did. Shops that didn't need to display their wares in the window were not for commoners like Hermione.

Hermione turned to Draco with her mouth hanging open. 'Uh, exactly how much do you think lawyers make in Canada?'

He looked confused. 'No idea.'

'Well, it's not enough to even pay for a single button on a single sleeve on a single dress in that shop.' She took his hand and tried to lead him away.

'But I'm buying the dress.'

Well, that got her attention.

Heedless of the human tide of shoppers swirling around them, Hermione stopped in her tracks and whirled around. 'But why would you – well, why do you – but' – she gave up and went for simplicity. 'Why?'

'To give to you,' he said softly. 'As a gift.'

A gift?' she repeated faintly.

He smiled. 'Yeah. Yesterday was a rather red-letter day. You need a dress for the weekend. I want to do something nice for you, so I would like to buy you a dress.' He raised an eyebrow. 'Is that allowed?'

'I appreciate the thought. I really do. But you don't need to spend thousands upon thousands of pounds on a dress I might wear once in my life for all I know.'

'It's okay,' he shrugged. 'I have plenty of money.'

She narrowed her eyes. 'Oh, you do, do you?' she asked suspiciously. 'How much is 'plenty,' exactly?'

Draco looked sideways at the hordes of shoppers deviating around them. 'You want to have this conversation here?'

Hermione folded her arms. 'I do.'

'All right, then.' He ran a hand through his hair. 'My family has investments in a number of projects around the world. The vineyard is one of the company's boutique acquisitions. The investments are pretty diverse, but based primarily on property acquisition and development. Off the top of my head, I think the family's net worth is around…'

Then he named a number that was so obscenely huge that Hermione turned white, a roaring sound filled her ears and she wondered why the footpath was rushing up towards her.

* * *

'Hermione? Can you hear me, love?'

Hermione swam out of unconsciousness, concerned by the worry in Draco's voice. She opened her eyes and discovered that she was lying on a park bench, her raised feet on Draco's lap, and the very worried face of the man himself was leaning over her.

'What happened?' she croaked.

'Well, I gave you an estimate of my family's net worth and you fainted.'

'Ah. So you did.'

She held out a hand and Draco slowly pulled her into a sitting position, wrapping a strong arm around her.

'We can sit here for a while,' he murmured. 'We're in no hurry.'

She leaned her head against his shoulder. 'I've never fainted before,' she commented.

'It was quite dramatic,' he admitted. 'Lots of complete strangers were quite concerned about you.'

She groaned and hid her head, only to bring it back out again.

'Why do you work as a pilot?' she asked. 'If your family are that wealthy, shouldn't you be playboy-ing at some exclusive, well-heeled address, sipping fifty-year-old Glenfiddich and beating off women with the best bodies plastic surgery can buy with a stick?'

Draco hid a smile at Hermione's imagery. 'I love flying,' he said. 'And I hate not doing anything.'

With a pang, Hermione realised that she knew nothing about his family. Nor did he know anything about hers. 'Do you have any brothers or sisters?'

'No,' he said simply. 'Just me.'

'Don't your parents want you to take over the business at some point?'

'There are people running the business with all the necessary skills and experience to do it well. I'll have a presence on the Board when my father retires, or passes on.'

Hermione lapsed into silence and closed her eyes, feeling the summer breeze ruffle the hair around her face and Draco's body around her. She realised that his warmth, his body, his smell, felt familiar to her now.

But, wow.

All that money. What does it mean to her? For them?

It's his money, she decided firmly. It means nothing to me.

She looked up at him. 'Shall we have another go at shopping for a dress?' she asked.

Draco still looked concerned. 'You sure?'

Hermione stood up and stretched. Smiling, she held her hand out to him. 'Hold my hand?' she asked.

His large hand enclosed hers. 'You never need to ask.'

* * *

In terms of shops that were acceptable to Hermione, Draco crossed off the super-duper exclusive couture stores on his mental list, as well as the type of shop that sold bodycon outfits in cracked vinyl with interestingly-placed tassels for £49.99. He was still left with a dizzying number of shops that could fit the bill, so they decided to hit the department stores.

As if by magic, a sales assistant floated up to them the second they reached the womenswear floor of a particular establishment. Hermione assumed this was due more to Draco's presence than her own, since she doubted the sales assistant could have seen her over the heads of the other shoppers.

'Good morning, sir, madam, my name is Celeste,' the tall, blonde goddess with legs so thin they looked incapable of holding up a kitten, let alone a human, breathed. 'If there's anything I can help you with, please let me know.'

Hermione noted that the last sentence was directed at Draco. So did he.

'We're looking for a cocktail dress for my girlfriend,' he said, smiling so sexily at Hermione that she gulped and prayed that her panties would make it through the day.

'Oh, how lovely!' Celeste cooed, giving Hermione the once-over. 'Oh, you're so petite, it's darling!' she gushed.

Hermione wasn't sure if that was a compliment, but she bared her teeth and thanked Celeste anyway.

'Now,' whispered Celeste, 'is there a particular budget that we must keep in mind?'

'None at all,' Draco said cheerfully.

Celeste's doe eyes widened. Oh, goody. A chance at a decent commission. 'Please follow me,' she smiled, then she strode off on heels so high and thin that they looked like an extension of her legs.

Celeste's pins carried her to an exclusive section of the womenswear floor, where minimalist rows of clothing hung from what looked like mid-air. An ornate doorway on one side of the area led to an even more ornate changing area. In the middle of the floating clothes rails sat a large, gold plush oval sofa for hangers-on to lounge upon while their friend/sister/daughter/mother/girlfriend/mistress/whoever tried clothes on. It was currently occupied by a couple of little tearaway boys who were fighting over their depressed-looking father's phone.

Celeste expertly sized Hermione up by eye, and took her on a magical mystery tour of the clothes rails. Draco sat down on the sofa and pulled out his phone, hiding a smile at Hermione's worried face.

'Now, I think we'll start with a selection of styles and colours, then we can narrow it down to a preference,' Celeste gushed, picking out dress after dress seemingly at random and hanging them over her arm.

She trotted into the changing area and hung them up in a spacious cubicle. Hermione gave Draco an alarmed look as she struggled to keep up with Celeste's coltish legs. He grinned back.

'Please don't hesitate to call if you need help with putting the dresses on,' Celeste gushed, already backing out of the room. Presumably so she could parade her skinny body around Draco, Hermione thought with a wry smile.

She was glad the changing room had an actual door with a lock. No matter how many times she'd tried to close off curtained changing areas so she doesn't end up accidentally flashing anyone, she always accidentally ended up flashing someone. This haven came with a full-length mirror, ample space for hanging clothes and a nice, plush ottoman for sitting down to change shoes with. She could even walk a few paces up and down before encountering a wall.

Excellent.

She chose the first dress to hand, making sure to keep the promise she made to Draco before they entered the store, which was 'Do Not Look at the Price Tags.'

This one was a sleeveless bodycon dress with a high neckline and a mini skirt, whose hem finished only scant millimetres beneath her bum. It was black, but embellished with so many gold sequins in rectangular shapes that it looked like the scales of a snake that had dressed up to go to the disco. In short, it was hideous.

She dreaded going out to show Draco, but since he was wielding the credit card, it was only fair that he got to see what he was buying. Or not buying, in this case. Discreetly pulling the hemline as far down as she could, she tiptoed out to the sofa.

Draco was exchanging small talk with the depressed-looking father when Hermione emerged, with red cheeks, in a dress that looked like it was made up of rectangular gold plates. He raised an eyebrow at the dress's lack of length. The depressed father also raised an eyebrow, but at the loveliness of Hermione's legs, rather than the shortness of the snake costume.

'So, what do we think?' asked Celeste, wafting up to the sofa.

' _We_ think it's too short, the neckline is too high, and we're really not into sequins,' Hermione replied.

'Oh, well, never mind. Plenty more dresses to try on!' Celeste said encouragingly.

Hermione escaped back to her changing room, not noticing the appreciative glances of both men on the sofa as they watched her shapely arse disappear around the corner.

* * *

 **Later….**

Hermione was almost tearing out her hair with frustration. Either she was completely out of touch with fashion, or Celeste was deliberately trying to make her buy a dress that would look ridiculous on her.

Dress number two was strapless metallic organza over a black underdress with large, lurid splotches of colour that could possibly look like flowers if you squinted. It had a thigh-high side split, and an enormous sash around the middle that wrapped into a massive bow. Hermione looked like a gothic Christmas present.

Dress number three was a hideously-patterned crêpe de chine silk cape dress. As far as Hermione could see, the designer simply cut out a massive circle of material, added a hole for the neck, two slits for the arms to poke out, and hemmed the lot. It fell from her neck to her knee like the world's ugliest poncho. Curious to see what it cost, Hermione broke her promise to Draco and took a peek at the price tag. She cackled with near-hysteria when she saw it was nearly £4,000.

Draco had also picked up a similar pattern to Hermione's dresses. By the time she stormed back to her changing area in a bustier leopard skin dress with a pencil skirt outline, Draco decided to nip Celeste's bitchiness in the bud. He stood up, and started wandering around the clothes rails.

'Hey, you! Skinny girl!' came an imperious voice from another changing room. Judging by the depressed father's reaction, it must have been his wife. 'Can't you find me this dress in the next size up?'

'But, madam, that is the largest size we have!' Celeste lamented.

'That's absolutely ridiculous!' shrieked the anonymous woman. 'I demand that you check your stock immediately!'

Draco took advantage of Celeste's new orders and strode into the changing area with a dress. He quickly located Hermione's changing room by the sound of her grizzling sighs and the words 'Fucking thing!'

Draco knocked smartly on the door. It was furiously wrenched open by a woman approaching the end of her tether. 'Oh!' she said, shocked, before feeling very relieved. 'Thank God it's you. I'm about to throttle that little bitch.'

Draco smiled. 'I think found you a suitable dress.'

To her surprise, he didn't hand the dress over – he entered the changing room and hung it on a spare hook. Then he reached past Hermione, locked the door – and put his finger to his lips.

His eyes were sparkling.

Uh-oh, Hermione thought. She knew that look. It was exactly that sort of look that made her panties feel superfluous to requirements.

'Need any help removing that dead animal from your body?' he whispered.

As a matter of fact, she did. The zip was stuck, and it was this she was addressing when she spat the words 'Fucking thing!' a minute ago.

Hermione gratefully turned around and offered him her back. He slid the zip down slowly, his gentle fingers brushing her skin. At last, the bustier nightmare fell to the floor. She resisted the urge to jump up and down on it. If the poncho cost £4,000, God knew what the leopard cost.

'Turn around.' Draco's voice was low.

She slowly turned around, goosebumps rippling over her skin. She faced him bravely, in nothing but her panties.

She held out a hand that shook only slightly. 'Can you pass me the dress, please?'

He didn't move an inch. His eyes were almost navy blue, she noticed with a thrill that went straight to her core. She knew what he wanted.

Yet again, he'd set a challenge for her.

'Remove your panties,' he whispered.

She considered him, running her eyes slowly over his body while she slowly licked her lips. Subconsciously, his hand brushed over his erection.

She hooked her thumbs into the sides of her panties and pushed them to the floor. Then she surprised them both by walking straight up to him and kissing him hard, pulling his t-shirt up. He removed it, and she dropped to her knees to quietly unbuckle his belt and undo his jeans.

He toed off his shoes and socks and Hermione helped him out of his jeans and underwear. She wrapped a hand around his hard length, but he stopped her and pointed to the ottoman.

She scooted over to it, and he laid her on her back with her legs spread. Kneeling before her, he hungrily kissed and sucked at her core, already wet from their brief interaction. Hermione let her head fall back and clamped her hands over her mouth, focussing on the skill and dexterity of this man's mouth.

Soon, her legs began to tremble, and Draco increased her pleasure a thousand-fold by spearing his fingers inside her drenched cunt. 'Come for me, love,' he whispered.

Hermione orgasmed in silence, trembling to the sensations of ecstasy that he drew out from her. But it wasn't enough. She needed to fuck him.

He pulled her up, and sat on the ottoman with his legs spread. 'Sit on my cock,' he whispered. But as she meant to mount Draco facing him, he shook his head. 'The mirror,' he pointed.

She turned around and saw that he'd moved the ottoman in front of the mirror so they could watch as they fucked each other. Her body shook with desire.

Facing the mirror, she slid easily onto his steel-hard cock. She placed her hands on his thighs for balance, and he put his hands on the ottoman. She slid up and down on his cock, biting her lip when he pierced her deeply. Draco angled his hips and made shallow thrusts, but it was Hermione who had to make most of the movements.

They fucked each other like this, staring into the mirror, trying to keep their breathing under control.

'I love how you don't back down from a challenge,' he breathed into her ear. 'You're incredible, and this is another reason why I love you.'

Hermione swallowed hard, staring at his face in the mirror while she fucked him.

'I think we make a beautiful couple,' he whispered, bringing one of his hands to her clitoris. She jumped at his touch, and gritted her teeth at the sensation of her body readying itself for another orgasm.

'Do you like looking at us in the mirror?' he asked, keeping up his thrusts into her cunt.

'Y-yes,' she breathed, grinding against his hand. 'It's really turning me on.'

He smiled. 'Then come for me, baby. I want to feel you grip my cock hard.'

His words seemed to trigger a switch inside Hermione. Every time she heard him tell her to come in his low, sexy voice, every body defence laid itself down and let her orgasm take over.

For the first time, she watched herself come in the mirror. Seeing what Draco got to see. It was exhilarating. It was bloody sexy.

Suddenly, Draco pulled her off him. 'Swallow me,' he whispered urgently. Hermione dropped to her knees and sealed her mouth around his cock, wet with her body's fluids. The sensation of Hermione's mouth on Draco's cock sent him over, and he came into her mouth time and again – in complete silence.

They were exchanging a lingering kiss when there was a timid knock on the door. 'Are you all right in there, madam?' Celeste asked.

'Couldn't be better, thank you!' Hermione replied, exchanging a grin with Draco. 'I'm just about to put the last dress on.'

'Very good madam,' Celeste whispered, and sashayed off, wondering where the short woman's gorgeous man had got himself to. Who didn't have a wedding ring on his finger.

* * *

Hermione's colour was a little high, but otherwise she looked serene as Draco helped her into the dress he selected.

She stood in front of the mirror (poor thing, all the sights it must have seen over the years!) and took a good look at herself. This dress comprised of a strapless ivory fitted underdress that ended closer to her knees than her arse. The overdress was made from delicate ivory embroidered lace with gold highlights. It fell to just above the knee, and culminated in a high neck. It was cute, demure, showing some skin but not everything Hermione had, and it was a lovely light colour for summer. She pulled her curls into a rough French roll, and smiled.

Draco came up behind her, checking her reflection. 'Do you like it?' he asked, a little nervously.

She let her hair fall, and took his hand. 'It's lovely,' she smiled. 'I love it.'

He kissed her neck. 'It looks beautiful on you,' he murmured.

'Does it pass the 'how will it look when it pools on the floor' test?'

His eyes gleamed. 'Show me.'

She unzipped the dress and let it fall.

Draco didn't even need to look.

'Hell, yes,' he whispered.

* * *

Hermione took the one dress she wanted and left the other failures in the changing room.

Draco ambled casually out of the changing room after her and headed to the sales counter. Going past the gold couch, the depressed father, having long since given up trying to control the tearaways, saw Draco coming out of the changing area. His mouth fell open in surprise.

Draco grinned and winked at him.

The depressed father got a little more depressed. He couldn't imagine being with someone that he'd want to be caught in a compromising situation in a dressing room with.

* * *

Draco didn't spend thousands upon thousands of pounds on Hermione's dress, to her relief.

Just thousands.

* * *

 **A/N: Next chapter: party time, I think!**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Thanks, everyone, for your chapter 15 feedback! I was really surprised by how popular the depressed father was!**

 **It was good to see Draco back at his demanding best. So good, in fact… I decided to explore this further in chapter 16, which means the start of the party has been put back.**

 **Apologies for the inconvenience, I know there's a lot of readers who want to know what on earth is going to happen at the party. I hope you enjoy this little interlude in the meanwhile.**

* * *

 **The morning of the party**

Draco slowly woke to the pleasurable experience of a slender, warm hand caressing his erection. Her turned his head and met his lover's shining eyes and lips that she'd just wetted by running her tongue over them.

'Is it my birthday?' he smirked.

She grinned back. 'Is it?'

'No,' he admitted. 'But I'm not complaining.'

'I'm horny,' she said. 'Quite a bit, as a matter of fact.'

'I see. And you're stroking my cock instead of your cute little pussy because…'

'I thought you would like to join me.' Her innocent eyes told Draco much.

His slow smile and sleepy eyes made Hermione thrill inside. This gorgeous man is mine, she thought. At least, she hoped. When they were together like this, there wasn't any doubt in her mind how he felt about her.

She shut that line of thought down before it could go to a bad place.

'Show me how much you want it,' he murmured.

Hermione released his cock and opened her legs to him so he could see her glistening core.

'Nice,' he approved. His hand drifted to his penis and he wrapped his fingers around it lightly. 'What do you want to do with me?

'I want to ride you,' she replied. 'Grind down hard on you so you fill me completely.'

His lips quirked. 'That sounds lovely, doesn't it? Tell me again, and show me your pretty cunt while you do. Touch yourself.'

And just like that, he'd assumed control. So easily. She had a feeling that the last thing he'd do this morning was let her ride him. God, she was such a rookie.

'Were you this controlling when you lost your virginity?' she asked, mostly out of curiosity, partly out of annoyance.

He arched an eyebrow. 'Hardly. It was something that evolved as I got older.'

'When did you lose your virginity?'

He started laughing. 'You're being very greedy for information this morning, Ms Granger.'

She stuck her nose up in the air.

'Tell you what. I'll tell you how I lost my virginity. In detail.' His blue eyes gleamed. 'You still have to touch yourself, regardless.'

He knew she wanted his cock, Hermione thought, but he wasn't going to give it to her on a plate. Especially on a plate. So he generously offers her a consolation prize?

'Fine,' she said. Her eyes sparked dangerously.

He smirked. 'Make yourself comfortable.'

She sat against her pillows with her legs bent apart. She knew she was aroused, despite his negotiation tactics, but even she was surprised to discover how wet her pussy was when she circled two fingers around it. 'Ohh…' she sighed, closing her eyes.

Draco's hand tightened imperceptibly around his cock. 'Good girl,' he whispered.

* * *

'I was sixteen.'

'Really?' Hermione stopped what she was doing and stared at him. 'I thought you would have been fourteen, fifteen at the latest.'

'Don't judge books by their covers, love.'

She settled back. 'Sorry.'

My French school class went to Québec for a couple of weeks' –

'Good grief!' Hermione sat up. 'What on earth was wrong with Paris?'

Draco leaned over her. 'Two things, mademoiselle,' he growled. 'One, my school was very posh. Two, if you keep interrupting me, I'll have to punish you.'

She stilled, hardly daring to breathe.

His lips brushed her hair. 'Will you be a good girl from now on?'

'I – I don't know,' she whispered.

His eyes darkened. 'This is what we'll do. I'll tell the story, and when I'm done, I will decide whether you were good. Or not.'

She nodded shakily.

'Keep touching yourself,' he said as he settled back into his original position.

'If I do, I'll come,' she moaned.

'Not until I say so.'

She bit her lip, and applied the lightest touch possible to her core.

Draco returned to stroking his erection. 'Now, where was I? Ah. Québec. We went with our French Master, Monsieur Hamilton, and his wife, who was Québécoise, and a couple of teaching assistants. Most days, we were put into small groups and sent off on a scavenger hunt. We'd have to navigate around the city, maybe ask for directions, get lunch, interview people at the venues and so forth, all in French. When we got back to the hotel, we'd hand in our assignments, and if we came back early, we could do more or less what we wanted for the rest of the afternoon.

'One day, Monsieur Hamilton told me his wife knew a pilot of an Eclipse 500 jet at the local aerodrome who'd be happy to take me up for a spin. I jumped at the chance. She had to take me out to the aerodrome at a particular time, so I wasn't to be late back from that day's assignment.

'No doubt I pissed everyone in my group off, trying to get the assignment completed in record time. I didn't even want to stop for lunch. But I didn't care. I had a plane to catch!

'Madame Hamilton drove me out to the aerodrome. She dropped me off, introduced me to the pilot, said have a good time, I'll be back in an hour and a half.'

Draco glanced at Hermione. 'I'm guessing you'd like me to gloss over the technicalities of that flight?'

'If you wouldn't mind,' Hermione murmured.

He smirked. 'I hope I'm not boring you.'

She flicked her clitoris with her finger and inhaled sharply.

He stroked his cock a little harder, watching her.

'Madame Hamilton pulled up in the car shortly after we landed. I was on a massive high when I climbed inside. I couldn't stop talking or jiggling about. I was this tall, long-limbed, gangly sixteen-year-old acting like a five-year-old.

'Madame Hamilton laughed and said she couldn't return me to the hotel in this state. I needed to calm down. So, she took me to a pub and bought me a beer, pretending she was my Mum.

'I thought 'this is the best day of my life!' A ride in a jet, a beer and a beautiful woman sitting across the table from me. But the day wasn't over.'

Hermione slid a finger into her core and pulled it out slowly. 'She was beautiful?' she asked.

Draco took her wrist and slid that same finger into his mouth, slowly swirling his tongue around it. She gasped. 'I thought so,' he murmured, watching his hand break his self-imposed rule and slide towards her wet, heated cunt.

Damn. I shouldn't have tasted her, he thought. I'm addicted.

'About thirty-five years old, shoulder-length gold-blonde hair, large green eyes, full lips. But, since I was a teenager, what mattered most to me were her breasts. Hers were bigger than those of the girls I went to school with. She wore shirts with enough buttons undone to show her cleavage, or v-neck t-shirts. Mesmerising. For a sixteen-year-old.'

'I'm sure,' Hermione whispered, arching up to him in response to his fingers sliding inside her.

''Are you looking at my breasts?' she asked. I stammered and said no, of course not. She smiled at my bright red face, and said she was thinking of going for a swim in the hotel's pool later that evening. Did I want to join her?'

Hermione was struggling to concentrate on his low voice against the blissful sensation of his fingers sliding in and out of her core. 'D-did you want to join her?' she asked faintly.

Draco smiled ironically. 'Is the Pope Catholic?' he asked.

'Are you Catholic?'

He swooped down and captured her lips in a kiss. 'Don't try to change the subject, young lady,' he warned, caressing his thumb over her throbbing clitoris. She cried out.

'Okay! I'm sorry!'

Smirking, Draco returned to his story.

'It was a rooftop pool, heated, obviously. Over dinner, she palmed me a note that had a time written on it. 11:00pm.'

'Rather late,' Hermione commented.

'She had a husband that had to go to sleep first.'

Hermione smirked. 'I take it back. You were an early developer.'

Draco lazily licked one of her nipples – then pulled hard.

'Omigod!' she yelped, her body spasming.

'Want me to do the other one?' Draco asked in a dangerous tone.

If he did, she'd come over his fingers in a nanosecond. 'No, sir,' she gasped.

He stilled, then pulled away from her breasts. 'I warned you.'

'Yes, I-I'm sorry, sir.'

He withdrew from her to grip himself and stroke hard. His fingers were slick with her juices.

He continued where he left off, his voice miraculously level.

'She was in the pool when I arrived. No-one else was there. The cityscape was lit up with slots of fluorescent and neon lights; we were surrounded by them. The night was black; you could hardly see the outline of the other high-rise buildings. It was pretty surreal.'

'Uh-huh…'

'She wore a white bikini. She smiled at me and invited me into the water. We chatted for a bit, swam a bit, then she moved to the shallows and sat on one of the steps, so her torso was clear of the water. She beckoned me over.

'When I got there, she asked 'Are you a virgin?'

'I blushed and admitted that I was.

'She said 'Want to lose it?' I was so surprised I couldn't even react. So, she pulled my face down to hers and kissed me, sliding her tongue deep into my mouth.'

Hermione had shifted closer to him now. 'What happened next?' she breathed.

'She undid her bikini top and let her breasts fall free. She told me what she liked, how she wanted them handled, and invited me to try.' He returned to Hermione's breasts, dropping gentle kisses on her flesh. 'Took me a few goes, but I had her excited.'

Hermione's fingers clutched Draco's hair. 'I'll bet… did she reward you?'

Draco dragged his tongue underneath and around Hermione's breasts. 'Oh, yes.'

'What – oh, God – did she do?'

'She took my cock, placed it between her breasts and fucked it,' he whispered. 'Then she held her breath, went under the water and sucked me off, stroking it and pulling hard on it, deep pulls.' Draco placed kisses on Hermione's throat. 'I'd never felt anything so sublime before in my life. Once her beautiful mouth engulfed my cock, I think I came in under a minute.'

'I'm not surprised. That sounded pretty hot.'

Draco's fingers returned to Hermione's pussy. Even the slightest touch caused her to jump. She wasn't far away from coming.

'Then we got out of the pool and snuck off to my room. Once inside, she knelt on the floor and stroked my cock, pulling each of my balls into her mouth. Shortly after, I was as hard as stone again. She got rid of her bikini, laid down on my bed and gave me an anatomy lesson I'll never forget. I had my first taste of pussy that night,' Draco reminisced, smiling a little at the memories, 'and I felt pretty invincible when I made her come with my mouth.'

'No doubt,' Hermione moaned, writhing on the bed to his hand.

'She pulled me inside her body after she came, and dear God, her pussy was exquisite. I remember starting off slow, almost spacing out on the feel of her cunt around me, but she made me speed up. She wanted me to fuck her hard. I fucked her as hard as I dared, which wasn't much – I didn't want to her hurt her, and I didn't want to come prematurely. But she wanted more, begged me for it while she played with her clit. So I gave her what she was begging for.'

Draco toyed with Hermione's clitoris.

'Draco, no!' Hermione begged. 'I'm going to come, please don't' –

Draco kissed her hard, ignoring her plea, thrusting his fingers inside her. 'She came over my cock, love. Hard. Had to stick her fist in her mouth to subdue her scream. For the first time I felt a woman's cunt contract around my cock in orgasm, and I was hooked. Fuck, it was a million times better than what I'd dreamt.'

Oh God, he was stimulating her G-spot, the bastard. 'Draco,' she begged, 'I can't hold on' –

'Come for me,' he growled, his fingers slapping wetly against her pussy.

'God!' she cried out, flinging her head back, letting the incredible sensations wrack her body.

'Yes, love, yes,' hissed Draco as her muscles clenched around his fingers.

He didn't even let the spasms of her body subside before he turned her over, raised her hips and rammed his cock inside her, hard. She wailed and pushed back against his body as he fucked her relentlessly, holding her hips and closing his eyes, selfishly taking her, fucking her the way he wanted to.

He smiled as he felt her body start to react again. 'Are you going to come again, angel?' he asked.

'I want to, oh God, you make me' -

'Come with me.' He sped up, impossibly so, and worked a finger over her clitoris.

She sobbed with need into her pillow. 'You'd better come fast' –

'Christ!' he shouted out, feeling the delirium of orgasming into her beautiful pussy. Again and again he shunted his hips into her, going a little crazy at the feeling of her muscles gripping him through her orgasm as he ejaculated into her.

Eventually, he let go of her hips and she sank into the mattress. He followed her down, gently withdrawing and pulling her into his embrace. Their hearts hammered, and their breathing was erratic.

'That was pretty epic wake-up sex,' he muttered.

'Would we achieve a smiliar result if you talked about being Catholic?' Hermione asked his chest.

Draco smirked. 'Sex and Catholicism shouldn't mix.'

* * *

 **A/N: See you at the party next chapter!**

 **While I'm here, I thought I might do a shameless plug of some Dramione works by my good friends. They've taught me how incredibly aggravating it is to wait for a cliffhanger to be resolved. Ouch!**

 **If you aren't already reading them, I recommend you take a look at** _ **This Life**_ **by coyg_81,** _ **Fictitious**_ **by LaBelladone x and** _ **LightofEvolution's**_ **Dramionic Drift (drabbles). Enjoy!**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: I hate to do this again, folks, but –**

 **Warning: no lemons!**

* * *

Glen the winemaker took himself, sister Isabelle, Hermione and Draco in the Land Rover to a rather pretentious establishment called Coleford Manor, where the garden party was being held.

'It's owned by Farmer Sweeney!' Izzy shouted over the roar of the vehicle's diesel engine. 'He and Mrs Farmer Sweeney have an adult daughter called Portia. Loves horses. And horse riders. And stable-hands.'

Glen laughed. 'George Sweeney's looking to become knighted in the next New Year's honors,' he added. 'Owns a hell of a lot of land.'

Hermione, looking beautiful and only slightly shaken due to the Land Rover's tiring shock absorbers, looked at Draco. 'Are you a Lordship or something similar?'

'Me? No.' Then he remembered. 'Father's a baron, though.'

'Doesn't that mean you become Baron Malfoy when he passes away?'

Draco stroked his chin thoughtfully. 'I'm not sure. I'll have to check.'

Hermione smiled at his obvious lack of interest in his family's noble status.

'When was the last time this old banger was cleaned out?' asked Draco, brushing off stray Petunia hairs from his trousers.

'No complaints from the back, please!' called Izzy. 'Petunia graciously allowed you two to steal her seat. She would have loved to have come along.'

Draco caught Hermione's eye and grinned, then took her hand, brushing his thumb lightly across her knuckles. His brow puckered slightly. 'You okay?' he whispered.

She smiled tightly and gently squeezed his hand. 'A bit nervous,' she confessed.

He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. 'I'll be around,' he promised.

Izzy watched them in the rear-view mirror and grinned. They were _so_ _adorbs!_

* * *

The Land Rover roared into a field near the Manor that was delegated as the car park. All four hopped out, brushing off dog hairs and stretching their backs.

'You've got to do something about those shock absorbers, mate,' Draco groaned.

'It's on my list,' Glen said. 'I think it's sitting around item two hundred.'

Petunia doesn't mind,' Izzy remarked.

'Petunia could sleep through an earthquake,' Draco retorted.

Izzy fished around in her handbag for a cigarette and lit one up, ignoring her brother's and almost ex-husband's frowns. 'I can't face that lot _and_ behave myself unless I have a nicotine shot first,' she stated. She looked lovely in dark grey wide-leg pants in lycra jersey with a high waist, rouched each side. She teamed that with a burnished silver off-the-shoulder top that gathered in flat pleats at the dropped short sleeves.

'I thought you said you quit smoking?' Draco asked.

Izzy, working through her cigarette in record time and crushing it underfoot, waved the smoke from her face and grinned. 'I have! Except for garden parties, of course.'

Glen and Draco were dressed in what Hermione presumed was the men's uniform for garden parties of the landed gentry. Glen, with his sister's colouring, looked very nice in sand-coloured chinos, a light blue open-necked shirt and a navy blazer. Draco looked fantastic in light-grey herringbone check trousers, a pale blue shirt, darker grey waistcoat and a pink herringbone tie. With his sunglasses on, he looked like a model.

No surprise that women flock to him.

Meanwhile, Glen was laying down the law to Izzy. 'Promise me you won't try to set me up with anyone at the party, all right?' he asked. 'I'd like to get through at least one local get-together without having to hide in the Gents for most of it.'

'Pish!' Izzy waved a hand airily. 'I've got plenty of things to occupy my time at this little shin-dig.' She smiled toothily.

Hermione noted that neither her smile nor response put the men at ease.

* * *

Hermione temporarily forgot her nerves when they arrived at the party itself. Set in the massive 'back garden' of the Manor's sprawling estate, it was transformed into a whimsical showpiece that reminded her of _The Great Gatsby._

Izzy took it all in with a professional eye. 'Done by event planners,' she whispered. Thank goodness. Mrs Farmer Sweeney hasn't a stylish bone in her body.'

The flat lawn was dotted with groups of comfortable, cream leather chairs set around white bamboo coffee tables. Large blankets and cushions were laid out under the trees for people who weren't wearing impossibly tight and/or short skirts to lounge on. The tables were decorated with old cut-glass decanters with sprigs of roses and ferns and, oddly, small bundles of hardcover books tied with a leather strap.

Draco picked a bundle up. 'F. Scott Fitzgerald,' he said, smiling at Hermione.

In the shaded areas, long tables were set up that contained the bar and a cold buffet. In a corner, a tuxedoed string quartet played unobtrusively.

Staff circled the lawn proffering drinks, and one ghosted over to the table where they sat.

'What have you got for us?' Glen asked the suited waiter.

'Well, sir, in keeping with the garden party's theme, we have a range of cocktails that were popular in the 1920s. There's the Highball, or whisky and soda, the Bee's Knees, containing gin, lemon and honey, the Mary Pickford, which contains rum, pineapple and maraschino, and, of course, The Mint Julep, which contains mint, sugar syrup and bourbon. We also have champagne.'

Everyone stared at the waiter rather glassily. 'Er, I'll have a champagne, please,' Hermione said.

The waiter beamed at her. 'I have one already prepared,' he said, and presented her with bubbles in an old-fashioned coupe glass on a tray.

'Neat!' Hermione said. 'They used to make champagne towers with these, didn't they?'

'They did indeed,' agreed the waiter. 'In fact, there's one by the bar right now.'

Hermione craned her head, and sure enough, a champagne tower formed the centrepiece of the pop-up bar. 'Wow,' she breathed.

'Have you got any beer?' Glen whispered. He wasn't sure if beer was top-drawer enough for this type of gathering and didn't want to disgrace himself. Izzy would never let him live it down.

'Absolutely!' the waiter assured him. Glen and Draco ordered beers, and Izzy chose a Mary Pickford.

Draco leaned over to Hermione, who was sipping her champagne and regretting the fact that the glasses didn't contain as much alcohol as today's flutes did. 'What do you think of your first posh party?' he whispered, grinning.

'I'm lost for words,' she smiled. Their lips met, only to part when they heard a 'click.'

'Hey!' said Draco, mock-severely. 'No paparazzi.'

'I couldn't help it!' laughed Izzy, putting her phone down. 'You two make such a beautiful couple!'

Draco chuckled and accepted his beer from the waiter.

* * *

Their table was a popular one. Shortly after they settled, people began gravitating to their chairs to say hello. Draco made introduction after introduction, including to the jovial Farmer Sweeney and his buxom wife, who appeared to be permanently attached to his right elbow. Then again, she was wearing rather high heels, which didn't go with her silver drop-waisted shin-length sleeveless flapper dress. The peacock feather in her headband kept getting in her eye.

'Now, you won't mind if I steal young Mr Malfoy away for a few minutes, eh lass?' Farmer Sweeney asked Hermione. 'Been trying to get him to come along to these dos for ages! Got some people who are very keen to meet him, don't you know.'

Hermione couldn't see Draco's eyes behind his sunglasses, but she imagined what they'd look like. 'Not at all,' she smiled, and mouthed 'sorry' to Draco when he stood up.

Glen had wandered off with his beer to yarn with some of the local attendees that actually worked for a living. Izzy looked around her, saw the coast was clear, and leaned forward.

'Right. I'll introduce you to the trio of witches. They'll hate you, but they'll know that Draco's here. The rest of the plan will just fall into place.'

Hermione steeled herself and nodded.

'Excellent!' Izzy held out her hand. 'Come with me!'

* * *

Rather efficiently, the three witches were assembled together, standing apart from the rest of the attendees on the stone terrace that overlooked the back lawn.

Portia, the daughter of the manor, was one, and she was flanked by besties Octavia and Penelope. Since they were in the know of the party's theme, all three were dressed and accessorised in the shortest 1920s-era dresses that platinum credit cards could buy. Cool blonde Octavia wore a peacock-blue sleeveless flapper dress with green, gold and navy-blue beading. Red-haired Penelope wore a gold and black deco-patterned halter-neck flapper dress with gold fringing. And dark-haired Portia stood out a mile in a lurid red-sequinned flapper dress with shoestring straps and red fringing that brushed along her thighs.

All three women watched coolly as Izzy and Hermione approached.

'Hello, darlings!' Izzy called, waving an arm that jangled with slim silver bangles. 'Don't you look lovely!'

'Isabelle,' greeted Portia with a display of her teeth. The four air-kissed, then the trio went back to staring at Hermione; rather rudely, in her opinion.

Izzy drew Hermione's arm into hers. 'May I present my dear friend Hermione, from Vancouver?' She beamed. 'She's staying with Draco.'

Three sets of carefully made-up eyes bugged out. 'Whatever do you mean, dear?' asked Portia, the spokeswoman.

Izzy laughed. 'Hermione's my replacement, darlings!' But then she immediately apologised to Hermione. 'That was a very poor joke, my dear.' She proffered the back of her hand. 'Please slap me.'

Portia and her back-ups weren't paying attention. 'So, Hermione,' Portia honked, looking down her patrician nose, 'is dear Izzy trying to say that you and Draco are… t-together?'

Hermione pretended to ponder, then smiled. 'Yes, it does. I never thought I would be so lucky to find such a man as wonderful as he is.' She affected a far-away look in her eyes.

'Such perfect timing, too,' Izzy added helpfully. 'Our divorce will be finalised in a mere matter of days!'

Three sets of patrician nostrils flared.

They look _darling_ together,' cooed Izzy, holding up her phone. 'Want to see?'

Octavia said 'I wouldn't mind' – before Portia angrily shushed her. She smoothed out her features and turned to Hermione again. 'Will you be moving to England any time soon?' she asked.

'It's possible,' Hermione replied. 'Or maybe Draco will move to Vancouver. It's early days.'

The trio's eyes widened even more at Hermione's last statement, which was a little naughty of her, since they hadn't talked about it yet.

But it was worth it to see their expressions, and Hermione's inner imp rejoiced.

'Well! Lovely to see you, Isabelle, and to meet you, Hermione,' Portia said, recovering from this double whammy of horrific news. 'Penelope, is that Lord Lloyd Webber over there by the antique swing?'

'I don't think' –

'Oh, well, we must be off! Can't just talk amongst ourselves all day, can we, ladies?'

'Lovely to meet you,' Hermione murmured as Portia and her henchwomen stalked off on their spindly high heels, presumably to locate the possibly mythical presence of Lord Lloyd Webber.

Izzy's laughing eyes met Hermione's. 'Our work is done.'

'If you say so,' Hermione replied doubtfully.

* * *

Heading back to their table via the bar, Izzy squealed and whispered 'He came!'

Hermione looked around, but was none the wiser until a beautiful dark-haired man ambled up to them. His shoulder-length, wavy black hair was on the perfect side of unkempt, and his dark stubble stood out against his olive skin. His cheekbones should be outlawed, and Hermione was almost hypnotised by his alluring eyes. She'd never seen bedroom eyes before, but she was willing to bet she was looking at some now.

His tall, taut frame was sexily clothed in twill charcoal grey trousers and blazer, along with an untucked navy-blue shirt. A thin leather cord hung around his neck, but Hermione couldn't see what was hanging from it.

'Luca!' Izzy cried, delighted, hugging the vision with one arm (her other hand was carrying her drink). 'So very glad to see you! Come, have a seat. But first, may I present my dear friend Hermione?'

Luca smiled a sizzling smile and clasped Hermione's hand. Bringing it to his lips, he gently kissed it and said 'A pleasure to meet you,' in an accent so sexy she was left breathless.

As all three settled in their chairs, Hermione caught Draco's eye in the distance. He was in the thick of a knot of pot-bellied gentlemen with a polite-but-switched-off expression on his face. He raised an eyebrow at Luca's presence. She grinned back.

Izzy was filling Luca in on Hermione's presence. 'Draco, eh?' he said, rubbing the stubble along his chin. 'I get the impression he does not like me very much.' He winked at Hermione.

'Nonsense!' Izzy laughed. 'Right next to me is proof positive that his interest in me has long since retired.' Then she tapped her chin. 'Unless,' she purred, 'he wants you for himself.'

Luca shook his head, smiling, while the girls entertained a brief fantasy of the two men, one light, one dark, both naked, sprawled on tousled sheets together –

Hermione took a large sip of her mint julep and fanned herself. 'Do you live locally, Luca?' she asked faintly.

'I have a studio in the village,' he said.

'He's an artist,' Izzy said proudly.

'Oh!' Hermione exclaimed. 'Painter?'

'Si,' he replied. 'Lyrical abstraction is my genre.'

'I'm afraid I don't know what that means,' Hermione replied, a little ashamed.

Luca smiled. 'Is all right. I am used to explaining. 'Is a type of abstract art that is more romantic and softer than traditional abstract works. Here. I show you some of my projects.' He brought out his phone, opened a file and handed it to her.

'Oh, my Lord, they're beautiful!' Hermione exclaimed in wonder, scrolling slowly through the pieces. There were so many things to look at – the bold colours, made to look water-like, arrayed in a seemingly endless number of patterns – or no pattern at all. She could easily see one of his paintings hanging on a wall in Draco's living room…

'You must be very expensive,' she said wistfully when she handed the phone back to Luca.

'Not to friends,' he smiled.

Izzy's eyes twinkled over her champagne.

'Mrs Farmer Sweeney is one of his patronesses,' Izzy volunteered.

'Oh,' Hermione smiled. 'Does the daughter of the house also take an interest in art?'

Luca rolled his eyes and Izzy laughed. 'Not so much the art but the artist, would you agree, darling?' she asked him.

'That is accurate.'

'Well, not to worry,' Izzy declared, lightly resting her hand on his knee. 'If you stick with me this afternoon, I'll make sure she doesn't insist that you visit her bedroom to see her 'etchings.''

Luca smiled. 'Let's drink to this.'

All three clinked their glasses together and drank.

* * *

 **A/N: Who is this Luca, hmm? And where can I find one? (just kidding!)**

 **This chapter set the scene for the final action … thanks for your patience! Hope you enjoyed it, despite the lack of sexy times.**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Part two of the party, coming right up!**

 **Beware readers: this is another plot chapter, not a smut chapter.**

* * *

The afternoon headed towards evening. Alcohol was consumed with more frequency, conversations grew louder and the ground became more uneven for ladies in high heels. The string quartet may as well have packed up and gone home, for all they were heard.

Hermione only saw Draco at odd intervals. She now saw why he hated coming to these parties. He had no time to himself. Well, he would have, if he was rude and told people to bugger off, but she wouldn't be with him if he was that kind of guy. So she spent most of her time with Izzy or Glen, having a nice time – but admittedly, she would have had a much better time with Draco by her side.

The Sweeneys had set up posh portable 'comfort stations' (i.e. toilets) around the side of their Manor. As willing as they were to put on a up-market party, they didn't really want all-and-sundry leaving greasy fingerprints on their Steuben glass bowls and Lladró vases.

Hermione was stepping down the short rise of stairs that accessed the posh poo rooms when she was halted by a sexy voice. 'Hello.'

She looked up and smiled. 'Hi, Luca.' He had apparently just availed himself of the Gents.

'Shall we head back together?' He held out a tweed elbow.

'Okay.' She put her hand in the crook of his arm.

They walked slowly through the luscious trees that overhung the path from the party to the bogs. No-one else was around. The ground was pitted with sticks, stones and other debris, so Hermione had to pay some attention to where she put her feet. Luca kept his arm steady and steered her over the more problematical gouges and divots in the path.

What a nice guy, Hermione thought. Izzy's very lucky.

'You are a beautiful woman,' Luca said in a low voice.

She thought too soon.

'And so is Izzy,' she countered.

He smiled.

'You know I'm with Draco,' she continued.

He was unruffled. 'I do, yes.'

He didn't elaborate, so she assumed the conversation was over. In a show of good faith, she didn't let go of his elbow as they continued walking.

'But I would still like to paint you,' he added.

She stopped and turned to him. 'Why?' she asked, looking directly into his eyes. Scanning for bullshit.

'You have the hourglass figure,' he said, looking boldly at her body. 'Breasts and hips. Long legs. Beautiful face. But the most appeal for me is your hair.'

Well, that was a first. 'You want to paint me because of my hair?' she asked faintly.

He nodded, looking at her through deceptively sleepy eyes.

'It is glorious,' he whispered. 'Even confined to a chignon, it bursts with life.' He slowly held out his hand and touched a rogue curl that had escaped its prison and was hanging out by her ear.

Her lips parted.

'My art…' he thought for the appropriate words. 'What I paint is unrecognisable to many. Among my works I paint women in the nude, and most who view my work are none the wiser.'

Hermione thought about his words.

'Have you painted Izzy?'

'Si.' He smiled slowly. 'I show you.' He got out his phone, brought up an image and passed it to her.

She studied the picture. It was a blurred-edge wash of a swirled outline in white, framed with bold dashes of black. A gash of red slashed through near the top. Now that she knew what she was looking at, the shape of a lithe, white female body began to form.

'It's very clever,' she said thoughtfully. 'And beautiful.' She handed back his phone.

'Izzy is' – he waved his hand, struggling for English words again – 'lines and angles. A joyous body. But different to yours. You are curves. And curls.' Again he touched her runaway lock of hair. You are inspiring, Hermione.'

So surprising that no-one needs to go to the toilet, she thought hazily. Where is everyone?

'So you wish to paint me?' she clarified.

He nodded. 'Si.'

'Like you've painted other women?'

'Si.'

'Are you sleeping with Izzy?'

If he was surprised, he only showed it with a quick grin. 'As often as possible.'

'Did you sleep with the other women you painted?'

His grin became a smile. 'You ask lots of questions.'

'I'm a lawyer. Occupational habit.'

He put his hands in the pockets of his trousers, and nodded, his eyes steady on her face. 'I have.'

'If I modelled for you, would you try to sleep with me?'

His eyes trailed over her body. Not an artist's estimation, this time. 'I think I would find it very difficult not to.'

Hermione nodded gently. 'That's unfortunate,' she said softly. 'I admire your work very much, Luca. I'm more than curious to find out how you would paint me. But not at the risk of jeopardising my relationship with Draco. Or with Izzy.'

Luca's jaw clenched, and he inclined his head to her. 'The loss is mine.'

'You haven't lost me completely,' she said.

He raised an eyebrow.

She held out her hand. 'Friends?'

He smiled, and took her hand in his. 'Of course.'

She threaded her arm through his elbow again, and they promenaded back to the party.

* * *

But as Hermione arrived back to their table, she found that the afternoon was taking its toll on her. Everyone was back, including Draco, but the combination of nerves, guilt and alcohol had vortexed into a throbbing headache. Her surreal – or should that be lyrical abstraction? – conversation with Luca just made the headache worse. She groped for some water and held it to her lips with a shaking hand.

Draco, who had not missed her return to the party with Luca the 'Painter,' brought his chair closer to hers. 'Are you okay, love?' he asked, concerned.

She turned to him, and he was alarmed to see that her eyes held tears. 'I'm so sorry, but I've got such a headache,' she whispered.

Izzy leaned forward. 'Oh, my dear,' she exclaimed sympathetically. 'Do you want some painkillers? Or Valium? I'm sure I have some in my bag.' She hauled it up from under her chair and started fishing through it.

'That's okay,' Hermione replied faintly. 'But I'd like to go back home and lie in a dark room. Maybe I can call a taxi from here' –

'There's no need for that!' said Glen. 'I'll run you home.'

Izzy gave Glen the eye. 'You'll be coming back, won't you?'

Glen gave Izzy the eye back. 'If you promise you haven't set me up with anyone, yes.'

She rolled her eyes. 'Darling, if I'd set you up with someone, you'd know by now.'

Draco intervened. 'Glen, I can take her home' –

'So terribly sorry!' a booming voice sounded nearby. Hermione winced at the noise. It was Farmer bloody Sweeney again. 'Draco, Sir Rod Chiselhurst's just arrived, and he wants to make your acquaintance. Went to school with your father, I believe.'

Draco schooled his features. 'Certainly, George. I hope it'll be all right if he waits a few minutes. My girlfriend is unwell and she needs to be taken home.'

Farmer Sweeney immediately looked contrite. 'Oh, dear, I'm terribly sorry to hear that. Is there anything I or my wife can do? Shall I fetch her?'

'Thank you so much, George, but everything has been organised to take Hermione home,' Izzy smiled.

'Oh! Oh. Jolly good, then. Well, I'll be at the petanque court when you're ready, young Draco.' He nodded uncomfortably, and sodded off.

* * *

At the Land Rover, Draco gave Hermione a careful hug while Glen took his time coaxing the old clanger into life. 'Sorry you're unwell, love.'

'Please don't be. I had a marvellous time up until now.' She kissed his cheek gently.

He frowned. 'Did Luca do anything to upset' –

She put a finger to his lips. 'We'll talk later, okay?'

Unconvinced, Draco nonetheless did as she wanted and let the subject drop. 'I won't be too late,' he promised. 'I've nearly used up my tolerance of stuffy ponces for the year.'

She did her best to smile. 'I love you,' she whispered, looking at his waistcoat.

He put a finger beneath her chin and drew her head up. He kissed her with extraordinary gentleness. 'I love you, too. Get well soon, love.'

Eyes brimming, she nodded and hopped into the Land Rover.

Draco watched the vehicle bone-shake its way through the field and onto the Manor driveway.

That did it. He was going to buy Glen a new four-wheel drive. An early Christmas present. Or, better yet, he'll buy it for the winery and claim it was necessary to eliminate a workplace hazard. There's no way Glen could turn it down, then.

He sighed, and sloped back to the party.

* * *

Draco looked at his beer glass. Three-quarters empty. He surreptitiously looked around the garden. People were starting to leave and the crowd had thinned out. Izzy and Luca the 'Painter' were still around. Izzy was practically sitting on his lap, feeding him pieces of fruit and giggling between kisses.

Glen was sitting with a bunch of other local farmers, jovially discussing the cricket.

Draco sighed internally. It seems I'm the only one bored out of my brain, he thought.

He quickly looked at his watch and calculated when the best time would be for him to put in his apologies and bugger off.

He was feigning interest in a conversation Farmer Sweeney was having about the volatility of the stock exchange when one of Portia's clones stepped up to him. The red-haired one. Was she Penelope or Octavia? Whoever she was, she had a face like a wet week.

'I beg your pardon,' she said grimly, 'but I've been asked to see if Draco is available for something rather urgent that's come up.'

He smelled a rat, a rather large rat, but anything has to be better than slowly dying of boredom at this old-man fart-fest. 'Please excuse me, gentlemen' he said politely, and made his exit.

'You came in the nick of time,' he confessed to the red-head. 'I was about to start snoring with my eyes open.'

Red-head huffed. 'Portia wants to talk to you,' she sulked in a monotone.

Draco became aware that they were heading away from the Manor. Too far away, now, to catch Izzy or Glen's eye. 'Maybe it's me, but you don't seem to be that pleased about it,' he ventured.

She stopped suddenly, and Draco narrowly avoided banging in to her. She whirled around. 'I'm sick of being her bloody lackey!' she hollered in a most un-lady-like manner.

Draco was too surprised to say a word.

'Fuck this! I'm going home!' Red-head held onto Draco's arm while she removed one high heel, then the other. Barefoot, she started stomping back the way they came.

'Um, where's Portia?' Draco called.

'She's in the fucking stables!' was the reply.

Suddenly, Draco wished he could go back to being bored out of his mind. Still, he'd better see what the bloody woman wanted. By the evening's twilight, he made he way to the stables.

* * *

The Manor's impressive stables were looking a little empty tonight. He remembered that the family had about eight or so showjumpers and hackers, but only one was settled in for the evening. The rest must be hanging out in the paddocks, making the most of the summer weather.

He stayed by the open stable doors, his eyes adjusting to the dim overhead lights. He wasn't born yesterday, and there was no way he was venturing into the unknown with a Portia on the loose.

'Portia?' he called.

No reply.

'I hope you haven't brought me here to get my opinion on a horse,' he said mildly. 'If they don't come with wings, I can't tell them apart.'

He registered movement by the stabled horse, and a pair of long legs appeared, followed by a body in short red dress. Portia rubbed the horse on its velvet nose and cooed to it. 'This is Hussy,' she said. 'Placed in the top three at Badminton for four years running.' She turned to Draco. 'She's expecting,' she said proudly.

What does one say when someone's horse is pregnant? 'Congratulations,' he offered.

She walked slowly towards him with an expression on her face he didn't like. 'Why did you bring me here?' he asked plainly.

She smirked. 'To say hello,' she purred. 'It's been ages since we've seen each other.'

'That could have been achieved at the party,' he pointed out.

'I prefer privacy.'

Draco crossed his arms. 'I think you're up to something, but I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt. What did you want to talk about?'

Portia adjusted her boobs and flicked her hair through her fingers. 'Someone told me you're off the market.'

'For once, the grapevine is correct.'

'I met your new squeeze,' she continued. 'Rather petite, isn't she? And curvy. She looks like quite the homemaker.'

Draco bared his teeth. 'Careful, Portia,' he said. 'Your malevolence is showing.'

She laughed. 'Do you think I want to take her place?' She shook her head, sending the tassels on her dress swinging. She stepped close to him. 'God, no. I've no desire to be the next Mrs Malfoy.'

Could have fooled me, he thought.

She was too close. He took a step back, but she filled the gap again.

'No, darling,' she drawled. 'I'm a modern woman. Modern women don't want husbands. Marriage. Children.' She shuddered, then looked into his eyes. 'We just want one thing.'

Draco resisted the temptation to roll his eyes. 'What could that possibly be, Portia?'

Her smile reminded him of a shark. 'Sex.'

He looked at her dismissively. 'So, go and get some.'

Her index finger trailed slowly up his chest. 'No, no, no. I want sex. Just sex. No strings attached. With you.'

He reacted too slowly.

She flung her arms around his neck, pushed her body up against his and kissed him.

The night air lit up with a silent flash.

* * *

Bloody hell.

These stupid girls.

He pushed Portia, none too gently, off him, and quickly strode outside into the courtyard. It didn't take long to locate the blonde member of Portia's unholy trio, trying to totter off as best she could on spindly stilettos.

Draco grabbed her arm and whirled her roughly around. Her frightened face was reflected in the light of his mobile phone.

He held out his free hand. 'Your phone.' He growled. 'Now.'

Shaking, she handed it over. She'd already locked it, damn it.

He shook it in her face. 'Bring up the photos.'

She tried half-heartedly to defy him, but she squealed when he yelled in her face 'NOW!'

With shaking fingers, she unlocked the phone and brought up her photo app.

He grabbed the phone and checked the photos. Just the one taken. He deleted it and thrust the phone back at her.

'Get the fuck out of here,' he snarled.

Whimpering, she hobbled off as fast as she could.

Whirling around, he strode back to the stables, where Portia was waiting at the entrance. She didn't look ashamed. In fact, she looked downright pissed off.

Before he got to her, she started yelling. 'She's a worthless nothing! I have a background, a pedigree, and class! I'm exactly what your family wants in a wife! When your parents meet that curly-haired mess, they'll laugh in her face! You're supposed to be with someone like me, you arsehole!'

Draco listened to her rant and watched her gesticulate. 'Portia,' he said softly.

She rambled to a halt and looked at him.

'I want to be sure that you understand what I'm about to say,' he said gently.

She cautiously nodded.

'Even if you were the last woman on earth and having sex with you was essential to securing the survival of the human race, I wouldn't touch you with a ten-foot barge pole,' he said.

She turned white with rage.

'So, leave me the fuck alone, or I will get a restraining order. And I'll leak it to the media. Along with the reason why.'

Portia's breath left her in a wheezy gasp.

'Goodbye, Portia.'

Draco turned and headed back the way he came, seething with rage.

* * *

 **A/N: Well! Was that exciting? Hope so! Tune in for the next chapter! And yes, there'll be smut. Smut for everyone! To read, I mean.**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: As I go to 'press,' I'm just two reviews away from hitting five hundred! Given the, er, 'niche market' content, shall we say, this story's success has surprised me, but I'm very happy. Thank you all so much!**

 **To the guest who wrote 'I honestly didn't think I could love Draco more than I do... Thank you for proving me wrong.' That really got me in the feels! Thank you x.**

 ** _Loved_ MotekElm's hint in the review: 'I hope that's the smell of fresh lemons wafting over from the next chapter…' **

**Also, I loved the guest review 'I'm getting scurvy from the lack of lemons over here!'**

 **Well, everybody - get out your citrus pressers, it's lemon-squeezing time!**

* * *

Draco stormed back to the car park, ignoring everyone and anyone who had the misfortune to be in his path.

When he reached the Land Rover, he texted Glen and Izzy. After that, he leaned against the vehicle, trying to control his breathing in the relative silence of the evening.

Before too long, a concerned Glen and a complaining Izzy arrived.

'Got your text,' Glen said to Draco. 'Where's the fire, mate?'

Draco ignored him and roughly grabbed Izzy's arm. 'Did you have anything to do with Portia's stupid plan?' he spat.

'I introduced Hermione to her hours ago!' she said, struggling. 'That was all I did! Let go of me!'

'What's going on?' asked Glen, alarmed.

'I'm trying to find out if your sister had no time for matchmaking you because she was trying to sabotage her ex-husband's love life!' Draco snarled. He let go of Izzy and strode a few steps away.

'That's not what it was like!' Izzy yelled. Then she realised what she said. 'Oh, damn.'

Draco whirled around and advanced on her again. Izzy jumped behind Glen and used him as a shield. 'Draco, will you calm down and listen to me?' she pleaded.

Glen held out a warning arm. 'You should stay back, mate,' he said quietly.

Draco did, literally shaking with rage. 'What the hell did you do, Isabelle?' he shouted.

'It was a test of your resolve,' she said desperately. 'Hermione wants to be with you. She's even looking into moving here. But as the prospect of life with you became more real to her, your past behaviour also became more real. She'd be giving up her home, her job, her family and friends to be with you, and if you cheated on her' – she stopped.

That sentence didn't need finishing.

'All I did was introduce Hermione to Portia and her clones, and mention that she was with you. I knew Portia wouldn't be able to resist trying for you one last time.' She peered over Glen's shoulder. 'And judging by your temper, I presume she tried it on and you told her to get stuffed.'

Draco glared at her. 'One of them took a fucking photo of Portia throwing herself at me.'

'Huh.' Izzy was surprised. 'That's… remarkably smart of them.' She gingerly stepped out from behind Glen and faced Draco. 'I take it you deleted the photo?'

'Of course.'

'And you checked her email, Instagram, Facebook and other social media apps to make sure she hadn't uploaded it?'

Silence.

'Fucking hell,' Draco spat.

Izzy swallowed. 'Draco,' she said softly, 'I don't want to break you and Hermione up. As stupid and misguided as my actions were, I was trying to help you both. I want to make it up to you.'

'I don't see how you can,' he said quietly.

'Let me check the clone's phone and see if the photo's been posted anywhere. If it has, I'll make the bitch take it down. I promise.'

'How are you going to do that?'

'Easy.' She gave him a watery smile. 'I have a secret weapon.'

Glen felt a funny prickling sensation along his neck. 'Don't you dare involve me.'

'Silly, of course I wouldn't! I have Luca. He'll take one or three for the team.'

* * *

Izzy went back to the party, and Glen drove Draco home. It was a silent, uncomfortable ride – not least because of the shock absorbers.

Glen pulled up outside the hangar and let the ancient engine idle. 'I know Izzy can be impulsive and overly-dramatic,' he said uncomfortably, 'but she still cares about you. And she adores Hermione. She'd be over the moon if she moved next door.'

Draco let out a shuddering breath. 'Yeah. I know. Izzy was probably right to caution Hermione. I've never been faithful to anyone. She knows that. Anyone else would have warned Hermione off me for good.'

'True,' Glen nodded. Izzy was his sister, after all.

'I care about Izzy too,' Draco admitted. He took off his seat belt. 'But I'm still bloody angry at her.'

Glen nodded and watched his friend/neighbour/sort-of employer climb out of the Land Rover. 'What about Hermione?' he asked.

Draco bent down to peer through the window. 'What do you mean?'

'She was in on it with Izzy, from the sound of it.'

Draco looked at Glen, but said nothing. He straightened up, and tapped the hood of the vehicle. 'Thanks for the lift, mate.'

'No worries,' said Glen, and he turned the vehicle around.

* * *

The apartment was mostly in darkness when Draco entered. There was some light spilling from the hallway, so he headed there, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his vest.

She wasn't in the bedroom, where he expected her to be. He took off his tie, waistcoat, shoes and socks. He pulled out his shirt and unbuttoned it while he continued down the hall, tracing the light to his office.

His desk lamp was on. That, and his computer monitor provided the room's only light. The printer was busy. He noticed a nearly-empty glass of water and a packet of ibuprofen sitting on the desk.

Hermione was sitting on the office's flat windowsill, which he often used for extra storage. Her knees were drawn up, and her hair tumbled wildly down her back. Dressed in one of his t-shirts, she leaned her head against the window. Her eyes were closed.

He looked at her. Really looked at her, as if for the first time.

Yeah.

She was it.

He was sure of it. Despite still being angry and confused.

He cleared his throat, and she looked his way, taking in his unbuttoned shirt.

'Are you feeling better?' he asked quietly.

Cautiously, she nodded. 'Yes. Thanks.'

She was nervous, he could tell. 'What's wrong?' he asked.

She slowly held out her phone. 'I got a text from Izzy,' she said.

He snorted. 'I can imagine what it says.'

'Among other things, that you're incredibly angry.'

'Can you blame me?' he snarled.

She flinched.

'Of all the stupid things to do! A honey trap, for God's sake!' he shouted. 'Why couldn't you have just talked to me?'

'You've never remained faithful before!' she shouted back. 'The first woman you slept with cheated on her husband! What sort of example does that set? Polyamory is all you know how to do!'

'Are you saying you don't trust me? Because if you can't, you may as well leave!'

'I do trust you!' she hollered over his hurtful words. Then she slumped back against the windowsill. 'Right from the start,' she whispered. 'I've trusted you with everything, even the things that scared me. But being together with you… it's such a big step.'

He stood quietly in the darkness.

She collected the document she'd printed out, and walked over to him. Slowly, she held it out.

He squinted to read it in the dim light. It looked like an exam enrolment confirmation. 'What does this mean?' he asked dully.

She let out a shaky breath. 'I'm sitting the exam that allows me to practice law here,' she said.

He stared at her.

'I enrolled before I got Izzy's text,' she said sadly. 'Even if something had happened with you and Portia' – she swallowed hard – 'I can't walk away from you, Draco. We'd work through it. Somehow.'

He didn't respond.

'Because I love you,' she whispered, wrapping her arms around herself.

Much to Draco's consternation, he felt tears build in his eyes. He pressed his thumb and index finger to the corners of his eyes and took a long breath in, then out.

'I'm sorry about my past, love,' he said eventually. 'But it can't be changed.'

She nodded jerkily.

'Do you really want to be with me?'

'Yes.' Her voice was full of tears.

He stepped towards her and folded her into his arms. 'You mean everything to me,' he said into her hair.

She looked up at him with watery eyes. He smoothed her hair from her face with his hands. 'I love you too,' he breathed, just as his lips sealed over hers.

* * *

The kiss started gently, but it quickly grew out of control. Without breaking apart, Draco lifted Hermione and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He carried them to their bedroom, pressing her up against the bedroom door once he closed it.

His shirt fell to the floor, and Hermione undid his belt. Draco trailed his lips and tongue hungrily along her jaw to her ear. She moaned in response.

'T-shirt,' he growled at her pulse.

She lifted the shirt over her head. But while it was still covering her wrists and hands, his own hand shot out, and twisted the material around them until she was trapped, her arms pinned above her head.

'Oh, God,' Hermione moaned. Being completely under Draco's control turned her on so much.

He'd noticed that she was bare beneath the shirt. She tightened her legs around him as he used his free hand to undo and pull down his trousers and boxer briefs as much as was needed. With one arm surrounding her waist and one hand holding her wrists, he looked into her eyes.

The he buried his cock deep inside her.

* * *

Hermione's body was open and wet for him. She cried out in pleasure at their first connection, then she used her hips and legs to bring him even deeper inside her.

He hissed and muttered 'Fuck, yes,' supporting her movements and driving in deep. His balls slapped against her perineum, and grew wet with the juices from her pussy.

Trapped between the door and Draco's hard body, with her hands pinned above her head. Hermione was completely under his control, his to command. She felt delirious with desire and a nearly overwhelming need to come until she screamed.

Dear God, he was fucking her so hard, so fast.

'Draco,' she gasped, looking into his stunning eyes, 'I can't last much longer…'

He kissed her hard, stealing her breath from her. 'Keep up with me,' he muttered.

His eyes didn't leave hers as he plunged his cock, over and over, into her body. 'God, I need you,' he murmured. 'All of you.'

Hermione felt the tell-tale signs that her tingling body was preparing to orgasm. 'Dra' –

'I can feel it,' he whispered, kissing her deeply.

As he pulled his lips away, he whispered 'Come.'

Draco swallowed her wail of ecstasy with his mouth, unable to keep away from her lips. Hermione's body convulsed over his cock, the orgasm so needed it erased everything from her mind – feeling only physical ecstasy course through her body.

As Draco orgasmed, he focussed on the intense sensations that coming inside her gave him. Every time.

Their bodies shook as they shifted back to reality.

Before Draco grew too light-headed, he untwisted the shirt and gave Hermione the use of her arms back. He withdrew from her, and she carefully put one foot, then the other, back on the floor.

They stared at each other, breathing hard. Then she giggled.

He raised an eyebrow. 'What's so funny?'

She looked at his legs. His trousers and underwear were still wrapped around his knees.

He grinned and removed them, and grabbed Hermione's wrist as she headed to the en suite.

'Where are you going?'

'To the bath' –

'No, you're not.'

He steered her to the bed and laid her down, face up. He parted her legs, pulled her to the edge, and meticulously cleaned her with his tongue.

* * *

They lay on the bed together in almost-darkness, save for the bright moon shining through the window. Draco's hand slowly moved, with a light touch, over Hermione's body.

Her lips tilted upward. She loved Draco like this – reflective, serene, sexy. She also loved the way he was earlier – passionate, controlling, sexy.

She smiled. He's always sexy.

'Are you sure about moving over here, love?' he said quietly.

She kissed his chest. 'Yes.'

'I was thinking… if you wanted to take up eventing again, I could build a stable. There's plenty of room. Plus paddock space.'

Hermione closed her eyes. This man…

She sat up and faced him, conflicted. 'When I move here… I think it would be best if I stayed in a place near where I worked. For a few months.'

She felt his body stiffen. 'Why?' he asked, calmly enough.

'The usual reason,' she said sadly. 'Too much, too soon. We've gone from zero to one hundred in a matter of days. We've committed to each other, I'm moving over here. I just think it would be wiser for me to have my own place to start with. Try to grow this relationship a bit more organically.'

He looked out of the window for a while, staying silent. Eventually Hermione shivered and drew away from him. But, as always, he stopped her with a gentle hand.

'I hadn't thought that much about it,' he confessed, bringing her into his side. 'But what you say makes sense.'

She smiled, and stretched out alongside him. 'Thank you.'

'Do you have a place in mind?'

She snorted. 'I haven't got that far yet.'

'Because my old apartment in the city's just sitting empty…'

She reared up and collapsed lightly onto his stomach, and he let out all his air with an 'oof!'

Laughing, she turned around and kissed his offended abs. 'You have an answer for everything, don't you?'

He smirked, tapped his temple, then pointed to his feet. 'Up here for thinking; down there for dancing.'

Hermione laughed again. 'Do you dance?'

'God, no.'

She thumped him with a pillow, and all of a sudden there was a pillow war to be waged. And won.

* * *

The winner was never finalised. Draco insisted that he won, but Hermione called him out on a number of technicalities, so he kissed her to plead his case.

When he finally let her breathe again, she murmured 'You always like to win, don't you?'

He leaned over her, linking her fingers through his and drawing her arms above her. 'I like to be the best at whatever I do.'

Her eyes flashed. 'Prove it.'

He ground into her, making her gasp. 'Again?'

She smiled. 'Always.'

He distracted her, capturing her mouth with his lips while he retrieved his tie, then he looped it around her wrists. She moaned.

He pulled back, assessing her. But instead of seeing fear, he saw fire-bright eyes and heard her hitched, excited breaths. Still –

'Are you good?' he breathed, ghosting kisses over her jawline.

She moaned. 'Fuck me before I come without you.'

He smirked, and fastened the tie to the head of the bed, allowing her room to move around. Then he got off the bed and stood there at the end, admiring his handiwork – and the pretty little creature caught in his snare.

He stroked his erection. 'What's the safe word?'

'Fuselage.' This time, there was no hesitation.

He smiled slowly.

* * *

Draco got a certain look in his eye when he was about to give in to his desires. She might not have been with him for very long, but they'd been intimate for so much of that time. It was a look that accelerated her heartbeat and made her body tingle. And become very wet.

You could almost say we were made for each other, sexually, she thought.

Maybe it's not safe to extrapolate, but I think we'll will be okay.

He sat on the bed and pulled her hair away from her face, dropping gentle kisses on her face. She purred and stretched under his hands.

Then he flipped her over, so that she lay on his lap, her perky behind exposed to the air.

His hand landed on her arse with a resounding crack. She gasped in surprise and desire.

'Beg me to stop,' he said in a low voice, slapping her buttocks again.

* * *

She wanted him. God, she needed him, his cock, his body, everything. But he was driving her wild with his slaps to her bum. Every so often he would rub his cool hands over her reddened skin, separating her buttocks and exposing her glistening pussy. 'Have you had enough, kitten?' he'd whisper, leaning over her. 'Want to feel my hard cock inside your cunt yet?'

Yes, she did! God yes. But she wouldn't beg him. She knew he'd stop if he was approaching an intolerable limit He'd done it before. So she squirmed in his lap and moaned, trying to make him touch her wet folds, or her arse, but he wouldn't.

Damn him to hell… she was going to lose. She felt his erection beneath her body, hard and hot.

Slap!

Slap!

Slap!

'Okay!' she almost sobbed with irritation. 'Please fuck me, I need your cock now, babe…'

She couldn't see, but she almost felt his smirk as he stayed his hand, running his palms gently over her reddened flesh. 'As you wish,' he drawled.

Standing up, he manoeuvred her onto all fours, her pink bottom raised to meet him. He knelt behind her, dragging his cock over her wet, sensitive core. She moaned.

He placed his hands on her hips. 'Don't come,' he warned in a stern voice. 'Or I pull out.'

'Y-yes, sir,' she panted.

He plunged inside her, and fucked her hard and fast, giving her no mercy. She wailed in desire, shunting her body back to meet his, wanting every inch of his thick length.

'More… dear God, Draco...' she moaned.

He applied a wet finger to her clitoris, causing her to spasm as if electrocuted.

'Want to come yet, darling?' he growled, ignoring his own clawing need.

'N-no, sir!' she gasped.

The wet sound of their flesh connected was turning both of them wild. Draco dipped his finger into her cunt, alongside his cock, getting it nice and wet. He smiled to himself, and traced the digit over her anus.

'Omigod, you fucking bastard!' she sobbed, shunting her body back so his finger could breach her.

'Not ready to come yet?' he asked, smirking. 'I'm impressed.'

'If you fuck me with your finger I'll come all over this bed,' she gritted.

'Is that a fact?'

Draco leaned over to his bedside table and pulled out some lubricant. He swore her cunt just got wetter when she saw what he'd done. He took a few breaths to centre himself.

He lubricated his finger and the rim of her arsehole. She jumped, then moaned, at the cold feeling of the gel on her body.

'Ready?' he whispered.

'Oh God, please…'

He pushed his finger steadily into her arse. She screamed in ecstasy, and for a moment, Draco thought she'd come. But she hadn't, much to his pleasure. He drew his finger in and out of her arse slowly while he fucked her pussy. 'You're such a good girl,' he whispered.

Her response was an incoherent moan. She pushed her body up hard against his. She was begging him to drive her insane with pleasure.

After a few minutes, he whispered 'Time for another finger, darling. Can you take it?'

'Please, yes,' she begged. She was on the cusp of coming. She'll probably come when he put another finger inside her. But she was beyond caring. She'd put off her orgasm for ages now; if she didn't come, she'd explode.

Draco slowly added another lubricated finger to her arse, and was pleased that she didn't cry out in pain this time.

When both fingers were in as far as possible, he paused. His cock filled her cunt. 'I'm going to make you come, sweetheart,' he warned. 'And when I do, I'll show you what'll happen next.'

'I don't care,' she wailed. 'I need to come, Draco…'

'Good,' he smirked. He resumed plunging his cock into her cunt, building up slowly. When he got to a good speed, he pistoned his fingers in and out of her arse to the same speed. Her entire body trembled, and the tie stretched taut against the bed head. Hermione had run out of words; her only sounds were sobbing gasps for breaths.

With his free hand, he brushed along her clitoris – then he palmed her pelvis and pressed inwards.

Hermione came, screaming. She gushed over him, her body wracked with tremors. His cock revelled in her pussy's contractions, and he came too, shouting out in triumph and ecstasy.

When they'd collected their breath, he gently pulled out of her body, and let her lay down. Lying alongside her, he was concerned to see that tears tracked down her cheek. 'Are you okay?' he whispered, pushing back some of her wild hair.

'That was the best orgasm of my life,' she mumbled into the pillows.

He smirked. Not quite…

* * *

 **A bit later…**

Hermione's legs parted when he felt Draco's fingers drift over her pussy, then trail up to her arse. Wasn't he done with her yet?

His bedside table drawer opened and closed again. He laid something on bed beside her head, and she opened her eyes to take a look.

It was a box containing a number of small balls, which got bigger in size, attached to a silicone loop. They were anal beads.

Her breath hitched.

'Have you tried these before?' he asked.

She shook her head.

'Would you like to try?'

Stupid question.

'Show me,' she whispered.

He positioned her body on all fours again, her head on the mattress. He gently lubricated her anus, and dragged the beads slowly down her back and through the cleft of her buttocks. She shivered.

'Ready?' he asked.

'Yes, sir,' she breathed. She could feel the cool air on her glistening core. She was wet for him again.

Draco fed the first and smallest ball into her arse. She took it easily, moaning in bliss. 'Good girl,' he said, and inserted the next ball.

Slowly, he inserted ball after ball into her arse, each one a little bigger than the one before. Soon, she was pressing against him, wanting more, amazed at how good they felt inside her.

She gasped when he pushed the final and largest ball inside her. 'Feel good, honey?' he asked.

'Oh God, you have no idea…' she moaned.

He smirked and leaned over her. 'Actually, I do…'

'Omigod!'

He gently moved the balls on the silicone loop, gently agitating them in her arse. She gasped and bucked up against him. 'I think I might come,' she confessed in a small voice.

'That's okay, you can come whenever you like this time,' he said. 'Do you know why?'

'N-no…'

He moved the balls, and she cried out in desire. 'Because after I remove these balls from your delectable, fuckable arse, an anal plug will replace them. And after that, beautiful woman, will be my cock. Every single fucking inch.'

Her body shook. 'Omigod, please, touch my pussy, my clit, something!' she begged.

'Not just yet…'

Her howl of outrage stopped when he slowly pulled the last bead from her arse. It morphed into a scream of pleasure. 'Omigod more, please, more!' she begged. 'It feels so fucking good I can't bear it…'

And she was right. She orgasmed hard when he'd only removed half of the balls.

* * *

While she was still feeling euphoric, Draco pulled an anal plug out of its packaging and lubricated it. Kissing the small of her back, he was pleased to see that it slid into her arse without meeting much resistance.

He leaned over Hermione, pulling her hair aside and kissing her temple. 'How does it feel, love?'

She wasn't making a lot of sense. '… will be in me soon omigod… going insane…'

He frowned. Time to check in. 'What's the safe word?' he asked.

She took three deep breaths. 'Fuselage. Fuck me.'

He thought about surging inside her cunt, taut with the pressure from the plug in her arse. Hell, yeah.

He lubricated his cock a little, and lined it up just outside her glistening pussy. Keeping a gentle finger on the plug's pull ring, he slowly entered her body – groaning in sheer bliss at its new tightness.

Hermione moaned out loud, almost an octave deeper than her normal voice, but it raised when he bottomed out in her channel. 'Draco Malfoy,' she sobbed, 'please fuck me before I go crazy.'

'I'm not going too fast,' he warned her. 'I'm not risking hurting you.'

'NOW!' she screamed.

He withdrew halfway, and sunk inside her again. She cried out, begging for more. Next, he withdrew nearly all the way out and surged back in with a little more force.

'Yes, yes,' she moaned. 'More…'

He built up a rhythm, pulling in and out of her, revelling in the utter tight, wet heat of her cunt. Hermione moaned and writhed and shuddered, her gasps becoming hitched, until she wailed out his name, bathing his cock in her come.

He pulled out shortly after, bringing his breathing under control. He didn't want to come in her pussy again.

That honor was to be awarded to her virgin arse.

* * *

He could barely wait.

Hermione was also impatient, almost deliriously so. 'Please fuck my arse, Draco,' she begged, after he'd plaited her unruly hair in an effort to keep it out of her face and cool her down.

'Patience, love,' he smirked, tapping her nose.

She wrenched her hands against her restraints. 'If I weren't tied up, you wouldn't be so smirky!' she growled.

He slapped her arse, and she yelped. 'Who's in charge here?' he grinned.

'Damn you!'

He ran his fingers over her pussy while he lubricated his cock. He applied more lubricant to her anus and slid two fingers in to see for himself that she could cope.

Now or never.

He slowly slid the head of his cock through the entrance to her arse and through the internal sphincter, on alert for any sign of distress from Hermione. She gasped, then yelped, so he pulled out and applied more lubricant. This time, his entry was smooth, and he sunk inside her as far as he could go.

Oh my God, she felt fucking terrific.

He leaned over her carefully, trying to catch her eye, but they appeared to be closed in bliss.

'Hey.'

Her response was a combination of a broken sob and 'Omigod I can't believe…'

He shifted his hips, and she moaned. 'All good?'

She opened her eyes, and he was alarmed to find tears gathering in them. Instinctively, he moved away but she cried out 'No! I'm not in pain.'

'Then what?' he asked cautiously.

'This… you… us… I'm totally overwhelmed. Thank you.'

He smiled dangerously. 'Don't thank me yet.'

He moved back, put his hands on her hips, and started to fuck her.

He was relentless, not pounding her, but keeping up a steady rhythm that her body convulsed around. He fucked her for as long as he dared – his pride meant that he couldn't come before she did, but his body was setting itself up to disgrace him. Eventually, he stimulated her clitoris and plunged two fingers into her core – and she bowed her back, flung her head back and screamed, jutting against his body convulsively until he groaned in ecstasy and spurted inside her arse.

His chest heaving, sweat trickling down his body, he undid the tie and gave Hermione her hands back. Still lodged inside her body, he lowered himself down and drew her against his chest. She clasped his large hand in hers and held it against her heart.

The night was quiet again.

There was nothing more to be said.

* * *

 **A/N: Prepare yourselves... next chapter is looking like it will be the last one!**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: here it is, folks – the final chapter. And, no – there aren't any lemons. I'm all lemoned out after chapter 19!**

 **There's a long A/N at the end… lots of people to thank!**

* * *

Hermione kept her word and moved into Draco's stunning city flat after she'd given her notice at her Vancouver law office and organised the movers.

She expected to feel nostalgic about leaving the country she'd known all her life. But when she was sitting in First Class on the plane back to the UK, a surprising tear splashed onto her book. It was joined by another, then another. The more she tried to stop them, the harder they fell.

The First Class cabin crew were noted for their professionalism as well as their impeccable customer service standards. Jill, the attendant assigned to Hermione's area, kept an eye on the young lady who was trying to discreetly stifle her sobs, knowing that most people preferred to grieve in private.

Soon, Hermione stood up and headed blindly to the bathroom, where she collapsed onto the seat by the vanity mirror and sobbed.

* * *

On the flight deck, the entry buzzer went off. First Officer Zabini glanced at the monitor. 'It's Jill,' he said. He checked his watch and let her in. 'Is it morning tea time already?'

'You and your never-ending stomach,' Captain Malfoy snorted.

'I'm a growing boy,' Blaise grinned.

Jill entered the flight deck. To Blaise's disappointment, she was empty-handed.

'Captain Malfoy,' she said, 'your friend in 3A seems very distressed. I wasn't sure whether' –

Draco and Blaise exchanged looks. 'Go,' Blaise urged.

Draco pulled himself out of his seat and grabbed his hat. 'Thanks, Jill,' he said, following her out the door.

* * *

Hermione was still in the bathroom some minutes later. She'd almost stopped crying, but she still felt miserably homesick. And stupid.

She jumped when there was a discreet knock on the door, and frantically tried to tidy up her appearance.

'Hermione?' a low voice asked on the other side of the door. 'It's me.'

Hand trembling, she opened the door. Draco stood there in his undisguised pilot's uniform, his concern plain to see.

Looking at her tear-stained face, he entered the spacious bathroom and shut the door, not caring who saw him. He drew her into his arms and held her tight, kissing the top of her hair and slowly stroking her back until her body stopped shaking.

He didn't have to say a word.

* * *

Draco's flat was, of course, stunning. Hermione traversed every single room with her mouth hanging open the first time he showed her around.

It was a loft conversion of an old brick building that overlooked the Thames and its permanent, if symbolic defender, the stout grey light cruiser HMS _Belfast._ The views from the balcony were so breathtaking that Hermione actually cried, watching the sun sink slowly over the horizon and the lights around the city's ancient, beautiful monuments wink into life.

Most of the flat was taken up by a massive central room, which contained the spacious kitchen – with inbuilt wine chiller, of course - living/dining area, access to a terrace and a library! Hermione's eyes popped when she saw it. One wall had been converted into floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, festooned with beautiful coffee-table books that Draco admitted he hadn't read. She couldn't wait for her belongings to arrive from Vancouver so she could populate the shelves with proper _books._

She almost swooned when Draco (with a smirk) pressed one of the end shelves. There was a click, and the bookcase opened to reveal a set of stairs leading down. 'Emergency exit,' he explained unnecessarily – she wasn't listening to him. She was busy exploring the stairwell and figuring out how the latch worked.

The entire area glinted in the light from the spacious windows. The walls contained remnants of the building's original bricks, and the floors were polished wood. With underfloor heating, of course.

Exposed timber beams crossed the high ceiling. Hermione loved what looked like a doorway standing oddly on the floor near the library. It showed where the floor's original walls once stood. Draco said it was cursed – every time he turned around, he swore it had moved behind him, ready for him to smack into it.

The main and guest bedrooms were beautiful, each with doors leading onto the terrace. Hermione was a little cautious about the master bathroom, though. It contained the largest bath she'd ever seen, along with a massive walk-in shower, a feat of engineering surrounded only on two sides by opaque glass. These fixtures were lovely, but after she idly thought that the shiny white brick-sized tiles reminded her of a morgue in the time of Jack the Ripper, she couldn't get that feeling of unease out of her head, much to Draco's amusement.

It took some convincing to entice her into a shared bath. A little Dutch courage helped.

The terrace was one big, long rectangle that ran the length of the two bedrooms and the living room, but massive boxes of planters had been installed to create three partitions. They also afforded privacy from nearby buildings and people motoring up and down the Thames.

On Hermione's first night in the city, she stood on the terrace, leaning against the large timber picnic table, marvelling at the beautiful evening lights. Draco came up to her with two glasses of chilled champagne. He handed her one, and they clinked their glasses together.

'To our new life,' Draco said softly.

She took his free hand. 'Our new life,' she smiled.

She sipped the champagne slowly, adjusting to the sights and sounds of the populous city.

'You know, most of the time you can't see the sun at all,' Draco said, deadpan.

She bared her teeth. 'I'd shove you, but you might spill your drink, and it's too lovely to waste.'

'Too kind,' he murmured.

* * *

Draco brought the champagne – sitting in its ice bucket - outside, and they curled up together on a timber lounger, overlaid with a fitted, waterproof cushion.

'You know,' Draco said thoughtfully, 'we've got all these rooms to christen, now.'

Hermione laughed into his chest. 'I'm beginning to think you're sex-crazed.'

He stuck his nose up in the air. 'I prefer to be known as a connoisseur.'

Idly, she undid the buttons to his shirt. 'Does the terrace count as a room?' she asked idly.

He hardened immediately.

'I think it should, for thoroughness.'

He ghosted his hand along her thigh and beneath her sundress. He smiled when he discovered that she wasn't wearing panties. He approved.

He kissed her gently on her lips. 'It can get quite drafty in London, sometimes,' he murmured. 'As much as I enjoy this' – he grasped her bottom and kneaded it – 'I don't think London's public are quite ready to receive an eyeful of your beauty on a windy day.'

She slowly undid his belt. 'Admit it. You don't want anyone else to see what I have beneath my skirt.'

Suddenly, he ground his erection against her body. She let out a breath.

'That too,' he admitted. 'Especially that. You know why?' He put down his wine glass, and took hers, too.

She shook her head, her eyes wide. Her curls bounced.

His blue eyes glittered. 'Because you're mine,' he growled.

His kiss was possessive.

* * *

The sun had set, but the terrace was lit from the city lights and the lamps they'd left on in the main room. Hermione unzipped her dress and Draco feverishly pulled it down, revealing her breasts. He lifted his hips and she tugged his jeans and underwear down.

She straddled his body, grinding along his hard length, coating it with her wetness.

'Hermione' – he growled.

She understood. She raised herself up and guided his cock underneath her pussy, aching for him –

\- and engulfed him in one brutal stroke.

Draco's cry of exultation set the nearby pigeons fluttering off in all directions.

* * *

Hermione had control this time. She teased him with her pert breasts and pink nipples, and he took the bait, dragging them into his mouth with his tongue, sucking and pulling and driving her crazy.

Her movements became jerky and she threw her head back, riding him hard. He took her face in his hands and kissed her passionately, thrusting his hips up to meet her.

'I can't believe how lucky I am to be with you,' he whispered –

She orgasmed. Just like that.

Moving up and down on his cock, she whispered 'I love you so much…'

He ejaculated into her body, burying his face in her shoulder. So he could hide his emotions.

* * *

Hermione sailed through her Qualified Lawyers Transfer Test, and soon found an opportunity in that hallowed legal haven called Chancery Lane, just a fifteen-minute bus ride from the flat.

Of course, the flat was convenient for Draco when heading to and from Heathrow, so they spent more of their time in London than they did the country…

…which made it quite a conundrum for the couple, figuring out who got to move in with whom six months later.

However, when Draco's London landlord, much encouraged by his best client's return to the building, offered him the floor underneath the flat for 'expansion' (this said while he wiggled his eyebrows at Hermione's tummy in a way she didn't like), they decided to spend the majority of their time in London and all the weekends they could at the vineyard.

If my Vancouver friends could see me now! Hermione laughed to herself. A city flat and a country 'estate!'

She felt like a Beverly Hillbilly – at least until she watched Draco enter the room, with his effortless grace and leonine movements. And sexy smile.

And then she felt very, very lucky.

* * *

 **Six months later**

Draco and Hermione hosted a Christmas party in the London flat for their friends.

Glen and Izzy came over early – in the vineyard's brand new four-wheel drive - to help prep food, fire up the barbeque, and – most importantly – chill the drinks. Izzy deftly mixed a couple of gin and tonics and brought them over to Hermione, who was sniggering at Draco's Christmas playlist on his laptop in the living room.

'He's all moved in, then?' she asked, handing the drink to Hermione.

'Yep,' she grinned.

Izzy pouted. 'I'm so pissed you didn't make the vineyard your home,' she sulked.

'No, you're not. Now you have a place to base yourself when you come in to shop!' Hermione laughed.

'True,' Izzy giggled.

'Is Luca coming?'

'Hmm…' Izzy tapped her finger against her chin. 'We don't have that sort of relationship.'

'You don't?' Hermione asked.

Izzy smiled, just like a cat. 'He's good for fucking, but not much else,' she whispered.

Hermione's lips quirked. 'I daresay you're right.'

'Did you tell Draco about Luca's proposal to paint you?'

Hermione smiled. 'Oh, yes.'

'And?'

'Oh, no!'

The both sniggered and rolled their eyes at the possessiveness of their man-in-common.

'How do you communicate when he's away?' Izzy asked softly.

Hermione's ears turned pink. 'We Skype,' she murmured.

Izzy's delicate eyebrows shot to the ceiling.

'Not every night,' Hermione continued. 'It's good to have alone time, too. And trust each other.'

Izzy hugged her impulsively. 'You're a gem,' she said sincerely.

* * *

'So!' Izzy said brightly. 'Any unattached ladies attending this party? I have a certain brother who keeps stubbornly staying single.'

The flat's lift doors pinged open. 'Let's see what we've got,' Hermione suggested. Izzy scooped up a tray of filled champagne glasses, and they headed to the entryway.

* * *

Harry, his professional hockey-star wife Ginny and their little cherub James arrived first, looking slightly apologetic, but social events where they could bring their boisterous baby along were rare.

Izzy looked alarmed at the tiny vocal child, but Hermione scooped him into her arms, tickled his belly and welcomed his parents into the flat. 'The spare room is yours if you need private time with James,' she told Ginny, who deposited her flotilla of baby equipment there.

'Wonderful!' she said happily. She grabbed a filled bottle out of a bag with thousands of pockets. 'Show me the microwave, then the G&Ts!'

* * *

James turned out to be the hit of the party. He sat in a well-cushioned space in the living room, playing with this and tossing around that, happily succumbing to the coos of the ladies who flocked around him like a rock star and went crazy when he held up a toy for them to inspect. Harry and Ginny couldn't remember the last time they attended a party with so many babysitters.

'You're sure I can't tempt you to the airline?' Harry smiled, standing next to Hermione out on the sunny terrace.

She blushed. 'I think I should put my feet under this desk first,' she admitted.

He sighed dramatically, but smiled all the same. 'I'll try again in a year,' he promised.

She smiled. 'You know where I live.'

* * *

Blaise and Astoria arrived, late, of course. Each happily blamed the other for their tardiness, but everyone could tell from their glowing faces that it was a joint activity that kept both from arriving on time.

Blaise wrapped Hermione in a bear hug that took her breath away. 'How are you, love?' he beamed. 'You're still a long way from the East End, but I'm sure I can convert you!'

'It's hard enough just trying to be a Londoner!' she gasped.

He kissed her cheek. 'Just keep being you,' he said fondly.

Draco hadn't seen Astoria in months, and marvelled at the change in her appearance. She was no longer a brassy blonde, and now sported rich, long, shiny dark brown hair.

'My mum insisted that being blonde was the only way to live, but obviously it isn't,' Astoria confessed as Hermione made her a lemon-lime iced water. 'And peroxide's so bloody unhealthy!'

Hermione laughed. 'You look like a movie star,' she said sincerely. 'So, what are you up to now?'

Astoria blushed. 'Harry offered me a job in Human Resources after I resigned,' she said. 'He's dead keen on changing the airline's culture, and he liked my 'direct' method of correspondence.'

Hermione hugged her impulsively. 'You're enjoying the job?'

'Oh, definitely.'

'And… you're enjoying Blaise?'

Astoria turned beet red. 'Well…'

They both burst out laughing.

Draco and Blaise looked over at the two women. 'I'm sure there's a saying that warns men to beware of hysterically happy women,' Blaise murmured.

Draco snorted. 'Whatever mess you've gotten yourself into, you can get yourself out of it.'

* * *

Izzy and Pansy, birds of a feather, got on famously. Eventually, Izzy introduced Pansy to Glen, who, until that time, was tethered to the barbeque. A sharp look from Izzy had Theo and Marcus hurriedly taking over meat-charring duties outside in the cold, and Pansy and Glen were left to get to know each other.

* * *

At length, the food was consumed, drinks were poured, stories were told and a baby slept like the dead from all the entertaining he did.

It was time for toasts.

Draco went first. 'I'd love to raise a toast to Hermione, who is incredibly special to me' – he smiled at her, and she blushed – 'but she wouldn't want the fuss. So instead, I'd like to raise a toast to Christmas, friends, and family.'

'To Christmas, friends, and family,' they chorused.

Harry stood up next. 'I'd like to thank Hermione and Draco for putting on this amazing party, and to hope for a successful new year.' He raised his glass.

'A successful new year!'

Blaise stood up, a little self-consciously, which was unusual for him. 'It's been an eventful year,' he started, smiling lopsidedly. 'For me, it was a year of an amazing down – but also, an amazing up. I've met a beautiful woman who's happy to tolerate me and my ways' –

Everyone laughed, and Astoria blushed.

'and' – he took a breath – 'will be the mother of our child' –

'Omigod!' Pansy screamed and rushed over to Astoria, who turned as pink as the bowl of beetroot on the table. They hugged fiercely, and Hermione joined in. Astoria tried, but couldn't keep tears of happiness from sliding down her face. And from poking her tongue out at her partner.

Draco, Theo and Marcus vigorously shook a blushing Blaise's hand. 'You old dog!' Marcus crowed.

More sedately, Theo clapped Blaise on the back. 'Well done, son,' he laughed.

Draco hugged Blaise fiercely, and Blaise did the same. 'You know what this calls for?' Draco asked.

Blaise laughed. 'I've got no idea what goes on in your head.'

'Come on.'

Draco headed to the table and called for everyone's attention. 'This is something that's long overdue on my part,' he confessed. 'But I think now's a good time to make the gesture.'

Marcus was at sea. 'What are you on about?' he demanded.

Draco pulled out his phone, unlocked it, and looked at Hermione. 'I, Draco Malfoy, hereby delete my Tinder profile from my phone.'

The airline component of the party gasped. So did Hermione and Izzy.

Then Blaise held up his phone, followed by Astoria. Pansy turned pale, but gamely held up her phone, blushing at Glen's smile. Theo and Marcus rolled their eyes, but brought their phones out, too.

'Never bloody worked for me anyway,' muttered Marcus.

'On the count of three… one, two…'

Lives were changed. For the better.

The End.

* * *

 **A/N: Haha! I lied! There was a hidden lemon! You'll never trust me again!**

 **Well, this wasn't the easiest fic to write; I'm more comfortable with romantic (okay, smutty) comedy. At times, it was a struggle, but your reviews galvanised me into action, knowing there were so many of you waiting to read what happens next! It's been so humbling, reading your reviews and seeing how many of you really got into the series. Thank you so much!**

 **Thank you, many times over, to the Anonymous Airline Personnel for your stories/recollections, technical info and draft reviews. Your accomplishment probably isn't something you can put on your CVs, but you're definitely entitled to smirk knowingly. I'm indebted.**

 **Special thanks to LaBelladone X, coyg81 and LightofEvolution for your support, encouragement and fistfuls of laughs! La Belladone X and coyg81 attended LeakyCon 2017 in Dublin (lucky things) and talked to a certain Harry Potter actor who'd read the story. Finding that out was a high point in my fanfiction career, for sure!**

 **While I'm here… Dear certain Harry Potter actor from LeakyCon 2017: thanks for reading! If I ever meet you, you'll know why I won't be able to look you in the eye without blushing.**

 **Last but not least, thanks to the readers who offered suggestions for the plot along the way, including ones for the future! I'm very grateful for your help.**

 **I'm not planning a third Stopover at this time. I won't say never, I've left a couple of doors open - but I need a breather.**

 **At some point I'll tidy both Stopover parts up, change the names and publish them as a novella online. I'll probably call it** _ **Stopover**_ **, haha.**

 **And now (drum roll) … back to Treacherous Affairs Two! Hold tight, readers…**

 **Noho ora mai (Stay well)**

 **NeverNik xx**


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